


Setting Fire to a Phoenix

by BackStabber128



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Blood and Gore, Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, Crossover, Demons, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Foreshadowing, Friendship, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Poisoning, Post-Timeskip, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29110161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BackStabber128/pseuds/BackStabber128
Summary: ...............................................................With the threat of an inevitable Blight looming nearer, Eren and Armin pair together in order to find purpose in a broken world.The land of Ferelden crawls with greed and evil among all races and demons alike.There is so little to cherish and save, other than a beloved friend Eren and Armin have lost for so long.One thing remains for certain: they will have to fight to get what they want.
Relationships: Armin Arlert & Eren Yeager
Kudos: 2





	1. Origin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When his grandfather falls ill with an unknown illness, Armin fears for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello fellow readers, welcome to this bizzare, random abomination that I spent many months planning out for some inexplicable reason.
> 
> It was mainly the lore and creativity of the Dragon Age series that caused this to happen. And also a bunch of oddly passionate doodles I did of the AOT cast as mages, rogues and warriors lmao. (Which I will gladly share as long as I can figure out how to paste images here. So maybe in the next chapter.)
> 
> I wanted to focus a lot more on character interaction and dialogue for this story. Since that's the main driving force of dragon age, other than action + adventure of course. Action is certainly prominent in the second half of this chapter though, and adventure will be a main theme for the rest of the story. Since what's the point of exploration and conflict if it doesn't have a purpose?
> 
> I mainly wanted to base this off of the premise of Origins, which is the darker, grittier bits of the franchise. It's definitely on par with Attack on Titan with how bloody and gruesome it is, so if any graphic mentions of blood, gore, or horror in general bothers you -- this may not be the story for you.
> 
> Armin will be the main driving force of this story, as well as Eren and others as the story progresses. It starts off with Armin as a teen, 16 or 17 at most, along with his family in a cottage in a more rural side of a village somewhere in the southern part of Ferelden near the Lothering.
> 
> The next chapter will have a 2 year timeskip and things will get juicier from there. I'll delve into the sheer unpredictable imagination of this universe and see what I come up with. There's so much potential I can hardly wait to get to some parts myself lol
> 
> With that said, please enjoy and leave any notes or kudos if you can.^^

Muddled memories of long forgotten ancient lore swelled in Armin’s head.

They swirled and burst into breathtaking paintings of fantastic foreign worlds and creatures. It branched out from within itself, curling and twisting with impeccable detail, smattered with colors.

This one stood out starkly from the drawings in the books he'd delved into.

It was the sight of a mighty dragon, whose scales were so thick that he could almost feel them biting into his skin, such as a fine metal armor smoldered by the finest flame.

They twisted and curled like stairsteps down to the mighty claws, crowning the enormous wings erecting from its sides. 

The dark sky above him was black as the deepest ink, with splotches of white scattered in comparison to a long-forgotten art canvas.

The creature gazed directly at him, piercing through his soul with those ghoulish, empty white eyes. No pupils were present. There would've been no indication of where he was staring, if not for those black veins cracking its sclera like broken glass.

And so, Armin stared back. 

How could he not? 

His wordless lips trembled, heart pumping wildly in his chest, wondering if what stood before him was true or just a mere figment of his imagination.

Then, Armin was plunged into an ocean of fire. Tasting salty charcoal on his tongue, dust stinging his nose and feeling his skin boil at the bizzare contact.

It all felt so _real._

The sensation caused him to twist into himself, curling into a ball in a vain attempt to escape his fate. Not unlike those tantalizing scales of the beast he had laid his eyes upon. Which he somehow felt was an intrusion upon something his mind was forbidden to comprehend. 

As if a bucket of water splashed upon a painting, the world melted away. Became murky, smeared with black, impenetrable darkness. He didn't think he could escape, writhing and willing himself to wake up, to break from his invisible shackles.

A few unbearable moments passed before Armin lurched awake in a cold sweat. He blinked his eyes rapidly as his heart pummeled in his chest. He clutched it on impulse, letting it sink in that he was back in his own body, and alive. Telling himself that the vision was nothing but a bad dream.

_Was this a message?_ He pondered, eyes wide as he swept his sweaty hair from his face.

_If so, for what, and why?_

  
  


_What could these dreams mean?_

  
  


###

  
  


The kitchen brimmed with the scent of freshly baked eggs and buttered wheat bread.

Rays of the morning sun shone through the blinds of an open window. Its refreshing white light contrasted with the cabin’s dull greys and browns, whilst also igniting the various ornaments and pottery scattered around.

It was as calm and simple as it had ever been: the place Armin called home.

The blond boy fiddled mindlessly with his wooden spoon, watching as lumps of flavorful mush dripped from it and slopped back in his bowl. 

He thought back on the dream, pondering on its meaning as the taste of sweet honey grain lingered on his tongue.

Could it have been a premonition? 

Some kind of warning of something yet to come?

He was too tired to really delve into the possibilities at that point.

“What’s wrong, Arm?” Came a voice from beside him, snapping him from his thoughts. The boy mentally scoffed to himself, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was still suffering from the horrible early morning and the onslaught of questions plaguing his head. Too much so to really care for a conversation.

“You're still thinking about those books, aren't you?" His mother tsked, ruffling his hair, "What were they about again? Was it ancient elven lore and secrets beyond the town's border?”

Armin huffed and wafted a few golden strands of hair from his nose, “Yeah.” He sipped at his spoonful of grits before adding, “I just had a weird dream last night. Probably just nerves after reading them for all I know.”

“Really?” His mother piped up, raising a brow. 

Armin decided to fixate his half-lidded eyes on his bowl in order to avoid her contrasting morning joy. 

“That’s quite exciting! What was it of?” She tested, and he could just sense her eyes lighting up with sheer wonder, “The possibilities are endless… Was it a glimpse of any ancient architecture? Some sort of elven ruin? Any mysterious scripture, perhaps?" 

Armin was about to object, but his mother was already on a rampage, "Did anything resemble any glyphs? Any symbols or shapes you recall in any translations? Were there animals? Any wolves? A griffon? Anything out of the ordinary?"

Her son took a moment of silence to be sure she was done rambling, before he sighed, “It was… some kind of dragon. But no ordinary one. It… it had these eyes, with no pupils, maybe it was blind. And it had massive, tattered wings, jagged teeth…”

He racked his brain for more details, but could find none. 

"An archdemon." His mother declared.

Armin quirked a brow, "An archdemon?"

“Yes. An enormous, fiery, even charred demon who rises above the ashes -- like a grotesque phoenix, in a way. An old god resurrected into a being of pure darkness. A darkspawn.”

The blonde woman halted her passionate blabbering and turned back to her son, “They are told to spawn every few centuries for a Blight. There’s a new one every few hundred or so years! Absolute monsters who threaten the fate of us all -- you said you read the books and you still don’t know what they are?”

"No, no, it’s not that.” Armin retorted, defending himself, “I just didn't expect them to look like, like _that_. After all I've read, I've never seen any pictures of them. Almost as if no one has ever lived to see one with their own eyes."

"Hm. Good point." Mrs. Arlert decided, rubbing her chin, "But there _are_ fables and rumors for a reason. And, if I remember what one old wise warrior told me correctly, you described it's image perfectly."

Armin nabbed another spoonful of grits, already almost done with his breakfast as his scholarly parent continued, "It's all just too interesting. You must've seen it for a reason, I know it. Rumors say that grey wardens hear those creatures speak to them in their dreams -- it could be related to that, or some ancient folklore, Maker knows…"

"Yeah." Armin repeated, being halfway too groggy to truly let her words sink in, "We'll have to tell grandpa about it. Maybe he'll know." 

The boy glanced up to meet his mother's apprehensive gaze, which was noticeably downcasted and somehow devoid of the energy she had seconds before.

"Has he been feeling better since the sickness struck?"

He noticed her expression fall, and almost regretted mentioning the subject entirely. 

Mrs. Arlert smoothed over her apron with her fingertips, biting a bit at her lower lip. A subtle, yet clear sign that there was something she did not yet want to let on.

But alas, she let out a sigh, "In all honesty, I'm… not quite sure. He's a strong man, too kind and humble to deserve the fate the Maker's given him, but maybe he's been given it for a reason. I still don't want to lose hope. We can't afford to, with all that's been happening. With our crops dying, animals driving out… I can hardly make sense of it."

The woman fell quiet, brushing back a strand of hair near her brow. Her eyes fell on a bowl of grits beside her, and she shook her head as if freeing herself from a daze. She scooted it towards Armin, "Speaking of your grandfather, please give this to him."

The blond boy nodded and took the bowl into his hands. He stood up from his chair and carefully spun around before he felt fingers nudge at his shoulder, "And also," He heard his mom say, "If you can go out and find any herbs to help him feel better, please do. A handful of elfroot should be enough. If you go, please be careful. There's no telling what could be out there scaring off all the animals."

"I will, mom." He replied, expression softening.

  
  


"Stay safe."

  
  


###

  
  


Armin had overlooked the signs before.

The small, subtle things, out of denial that it could be possible. 

The dark rings around his grandfather's eyes, the grey veins gradually slithering up the sides of his neck and creasing the edge of his brow.

Armin's grandpa sat stiff in his regular old mahogany rocking chair. His hat and beard masked his ghoulish, sickly expression. Although the now black veins coasting the sides of his temple and across his gaunt cheeks were as stark as ever.

"I have breakfast for you," Armin said, fighting past the knot in his throat, "Hopefully it's enough to fight against the sickness. I know you must be feeling horrible…"

The boy felt a pang of sympathy in his heart, imagining what it must have felt like. Sitting in one place for hours on end, suffering a high fever, cold sweats, and not even being able to speak.

He remembered what his mother said, how such a tender, humble man could be afflicted with such a deadly disease. 

But deep down, he knew the outcome would be much worse than death could ever be. He knew what was wrong. They all did. They just didn't want to say it. Didn't want to admit it to themselves or to the air in fear of what it meant.

"It's not fair." Armin said, rubbing two fingers over his eyes, masking the all-too-naive blue, "It was never fair."

He sighed, kneeling down to place the wooden bowl onto his grandpa's lap. His fingers left the rim, only for larger, more mature and aged ones to replace them. Almost like a wordless, false reassurance that everything would be alright.

But Armin could tell by the way the man clumsily slopped the spoon in and around the broth. The way he could barely lift it back up and gulp it down like a starved dog scarfing down a slab of meat. Something was horribly wrong.

The boy pat the man on the back gently, yet firmly as he choked and sputtered. They both grimaced in hidden terror whilst clumps of grits spewed, wasted on the floor. 

There was a flicker in Armin's eye, a glint, and his pupils snapped to the spot between his grandpa's bed and the windowsill. 

Armin pulled away from the elder, walking over to inspect the mysterious object. He knelt down, taking the smooth glass between his fingertips. His brows scrunched up once he realized what it was.

A bottle. Half drank and corked so tight it might as well have been a tonic of poison. Armin shook it gently to discover a sickly dark fluid inside, too murky to be water, but it could be easily overlooked due to the stained glass.

_Is it wine?_ He couldn't help but wonder. But his grandfather wasn't an alcoholic. He never even had a sip of the stuff once in his life, or so he told. He couldn't have, especially in his current state.

Before Armin could inspect it any further, an invisible force sent the bottle spiraling from his hands. It smashed into pieces just as fast as it had fallen.

Armin peered over to meet the frantic, horrified eyes of his grandpa. Right as the sharp scent of a indescribably foul odor pierced his nose, and his face scrunched up.

It completely contrasted the familiar smoked firewood and cinnamon smell of his home.

He peered back down at the bottle, whose shards littered the floor along with the rancid reddish black substance seeping into the wooden floor boards.

"...What is that?" Armin asked on impulse, despite knowing it was nearly impossible to get an answer.

Still as silent as ever, his grandfather stood over his shoulder, trembling with a vigor Armin had never seen before. The man's deep chestnut hair masked the visible terror in his dark eyes. The muscles in his throat visibly jolted, jaw unhinging as a few faint mutters fumbled from his lips.

"What's wrong?" Armin asked with clear concern. He glanced between both the elder and the glass shards a moment more. 

The pieces couldn't quite click together, couldn't be added up in a way that made _sense --_ not like those fables and history books, where the darkspawn were written as thoughtless brutes who only plundered and murdered and made decisions on a whim. So, why -- _Why_ in the _Maker's_ name was that bottle filled with that same deep, tainted, dark red blood the stories' described so well?

Armin heard the swift _ka-thump_ of a door swinging open before he could ponder any further. 

The sound of thick leather boots smacking wood came next. Armin could imagine who was standing there, heavy weight shifting between two feet, hand scratching the back of his neck, and scruffy, too-big farm attire from shoulder to toe. 

Armin returned the familiar gaze to meet those two big blue eyes, paired with a stubby nose and a thick blond mustache -- all screwed tight in concern. Then, he heard the telltale sound of the man clearing his throat. Not a good sign.

"How're you doing, pa?" Mr. Arlert questioned Armin's grandfather, who simply, and expectantly said nothing in return.

Mr. Arlert's expression fell, biting a bit at his inner cheek, "I hope you'll recover soon, at least enough to speak again. I really do." He lifted his eyes to Armin.

"Err… son, I've been meaning to speak to you..." He began, shifting on his feet once more, "...about something important."

Armin glanced from him to his grandpa in question. To which his father nodded with a somber look in his eyes. 

"Say, do you want to go fishing with me?" Mr. Arlert said, his face lighting up slightly, "It's real nice this time of year. Lots of good, healthy fish as well. We'll talk on our way there."

"Sure." Armin said, deciding he had nothing better to do. Although the thought of the bottle still lingered in his head. 

As they both turned to leave, the boy couldn't help but notice how his grandpa's face twisted the instant his father mentioned 'fishing.' Armin pat him on the arm in a vain attempt to cease his trembling shoulders. He could swear he could hear the man murmuring pleads under his breath.

"It'll be alright, grandpa. Maybe we'll find a root there that'll make you feel better." Armin was sure he was only reassuring himself at that point, "I promise, we'll do anything for you to get better."

But as expected, he said nothing. 

Did nothing but stare back at him with those empty, pain stricken brown eyes.

  
  


###

  
  


The scent of buttery chestnut and freshly planted sod filled the forest.

So sweet, yet so bitter and a feeling close to loneliness hung in the air.

The sky was strangely quiet and desolate despite how beautiful of a day it was. Usually, there were crickets, birds, and various critters chirping along. 

But now, all that could be heard was his father's and his boots crunching along dead leaves and the sound of trickling water from the river they were approaching.

Armin was sure his father noticed, too.

The boy kicked at a stick with the toe of his boot. The stick looked strangely similar to that monster he'd seen in his dream. With that long, crooked spine and black beak, though the wings were limp and broken like the twigs they were, not like the majestic fleshy ones that crowned the one he'd seen. 

What did his mom call it again? A grotesque Phoenix? 

Surely she was talking about the famous fiery birds and not the deadly scavenger ones he learned about from tales of the Western Approach. Those were as grotesque as the creatures of Thedas could get.

There was a faint ' _glug glug glug'_ of the rushing river water, which only became clearer the longer he and his father walked along the path. The forest brush only grew thicker the deeper they dwelled. Rich mahogany trees stretched beautifully over the gush of golden sunrise, the light threading through them like creases in worn window blinds.

Eventually, Mr. Arlert decided to break the silence, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Err… Pa wasn't all I wanted to talk to you about." He implied, shifting his eyes along the forest trail. "I just... wanted to remind you of what I told you earlier. No matter what you are destined to become; mage, warrior, rogue, all else. Just remember that all that matters is who you are."

Armin nodded amidst his silence, plucking apart a dry leaf between his fingers. Although his father couldn't tell, he was already feeling the weight upon his shoulders, an array of worries and responsibilities he did not want to think about, swarming in his mind like a disturbed nest of bees. 

Armin always dreaded the thought of the unknown, yet was also fascinated by it. There was so much to fear in the world. But also so much to admire, cherish and learn.

There were so many possibilities of the future. The thought that one simple act of fate could change his life forever and solidify the way society viewed him, was… intimidating, to say the least. 

He never really did think about what he wanted to grow up to be.

"I'm saying it so you don't end up like I did at your age." His father continued regretfully, "Don't let all that townsfolk nonsense get to your head. It's all just politics. Your life will fall into place once you take the right paths."

"But what if it doesn't?"

Armin almost held his tongue, but for whatever reason, he felt a strange, unquenching urge to tell his father what he truly felt.

"I've read the books, I know how people treat people they don't understand. Like mages, elves and qunari, even more. They're segregated from us, that's why we never see them. They're all in the Circle Tower or Alienages. Even rogues can be mistaken for thugs and pests in the wrong places. It's just," The boy rubbed a knuckle over his brow, "Ferelden isn't fair, dad."

Mr. Arlert's eyes coasted the glade's scenery, but he did offer a slight, reassuring nod, goading the boy to continue.

Armin took a breath, shutting his eyes, "I'm just… afraid. Anything can happen, and there's no telling how people would react -- because they're afraid of what they don't understand. Especially… if you and mom aren't around."

Mr. Arlert paused a short moment, before he offered a hearty chuckle, "Afraid of what they don't understand, huh? Sounds a bit familiar..."

He cut it off with a sigh, squeezing instinctively at the handle of the cutlass on his belt, "It's hard for some folks to think outside their own perspectives. Even harder to imagine what it would be like to be in an enemy's boots. Ignorance and arrogance are a human speciality. But it runs in all of us. That's why the world is the way it is."

The warrior folded his arms across his chest, "However, we are all still people, and people can be reasoned with. Even the most vile, selfish, horrible being can at least acknowledge an act of kindness. Even if you are a thug or an elf to them, it's the least they can do."

He glanced to Armin once more, then back up at the forest glade ahead. The crunching of boots on dead leaves was all that could be heard once more, until his father concluded,

"It's all in the Maker's hands. One day, you'll understand."

Armin could only nod quietly once more.

The natural silence continued a moment more, before the sound of crunching leaves dissipated into boots squelching into wet mud. It was then the two realized they had reached their destination.

"So... what's this really about?" Armin said, pupils whittling across the surface of the lone, rolling river. 

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened to your grandfather while we were fishing at this spot a few weeks ago." His father claimed, "Thought maybe it had something to do with that disease he has."

Sure. _Disease_. Armin nearly scoffed.

"Might've had something to do with the fish we ate. But if it was, how did none of us get sick with him? I've been tryin'a figure it out."

Armin found himself tracking back to the bottle he had found earlier. Surely, that would've had to do with something. But how?

The stocky adult stomped a boot into a pile of dead ashes on the ground, "This was where we were. It was an ordinary day, early morning, right as the sun peaked up. Pa only wanted to see it rise and have fish for dinner, that's all."

Armin tracked down the mud of the pier with him, searching for anything, anything at all that sparked an idea in his head. He discovered overlapped boot-prints sunk into the dirt, half eaten bits of fishing bait littered around. All useless junk.

"Did you see him do anything out of the ordinary?" Armin asked.

"No, all he did was sit by the fire while I helped him fish and search for firewood."

Armin furrowed a brow, "...Did you notice him drinking anything?"

"Well… yeah. He always brings at least three drinks with him whenever he goes out." His father gazed over the surface of the rolling river, tracking each gush sparking up from beneath the water, "I don't see how they could lead to anything though, unless it was a bad batch from the river."

"Did you notice if any of them were discolored?" Armin goaded on, "Or anything remotely suspicious about any of them?" 

"I… I don't know. I suppose they seemed alright when we were first here." Mr. Arlert paused, clearly deep in thought about something he never would've noticed without suspicion. 

He bit his lip, "But… come to think of it… Later on, I noticed some kind of blood near here. Not sure what it was, I thought it was from the fish at first glance. But it seemed… dark, dried up almost. Not anything I've ever seen before."

"Where was it?"

Mr. Arlert wandered a bit to the left of the river, idly fiddling before his feet stopped in their tracks. His turquoise eyes went wide, "...There."

What was once a lively bundle of beautiful pansies and roses was then a decaying black pile of waste.

Most of the plants were wilting, dying. Dark petals were barely clinging on to what was left of their home, with crimson scars searing their once bright and colorful veins.

Splattered with that same dark blood Armin's father and the books described. Marred and destroyed -- which could only mean one thing. They were tainted. Tainted by darkspawn blood.

"I… found a bottle in his room." Armin mentioned, disgust curling in his gut. Mr. Arlert remained silent, fearing that all he dreaded would come true. 

Alas, all of the awful, disgusting pieces of puzzle clicked together in their heads, as Armin concluded,

"If it was water, like you said… it was red. That… that can only mean…"

"Maker…" Mr. Arlert swore, sucking in a breath of masked terror, "But… the coincidence is nearly impossible. How could… how could one of those things know we would be here? Why didn't they attack?"

Armin bit deep into his lip, almost disbelieving his eyes as well. But it did make sense. Sense, in a way that explained his grandfather's slow descent into whatever monster he was becoming. Slow and gradual. The boy's stomach twisted into a knot once he realized once more. 

His grandpa was dying, with nothing else but a chance of surviving to become a ghoul.

"Why would they strategize something so vile? To a helpless old man, nevertheless! Was it a warning? A cruel joke? A mockery?"

Mr. Arlert seethed through his teeth, nearly disbelieving his own realization, "Mocking the act of a Joining, knowing an elder can't handle the effects of taint..."

Armin nearly cocked a brow at the mention, if not still reeling over the tragic realization himself. Never once did a book a mention of what a 'Joining' was, besides it being a secret of the grey wardens.

Mr. Arlert continued before he could even think of asking, "Knowing we were too stupid and ignorant to figure it out for ourselves. Just like I said before." Bitter tears began to fill the corners of the man's eyes, "You were right, son. We just didn't want to believe it. Now, we know that there's nothing we can do."

Armin gazed down at the elfroot stashed in his pocket, the ones he collected on the way to the river. It was nothing but a false reassurance that there would somehow be a way out of this mess. Just like he expected. But for once -- once, in his life, he was hoping he was wrong.

Suddenly, his father stood back on his feet and wiped his eyes, "We have to tell your mother, if she wasn't smart enough already to figure it out herself."

Armin could only nod mutely in response.

"Hopefully we're not too late."

  
  
  


###

  
  
  


The instant they stepped back onto their doorstep, the sight of a yellow circle encrusting their door stopped them dead in their tracks.

It was the symbol they had been dreading to see for weeks.

The warning of taint to all who passed their home. To avoid it at all costs. 

What a coincidence it was for it to appear right when they figured it out for themselves.

When they came inside, Mrs. Arlert was already pacing back and forth in the kitchen. Sweat beaded her brow and her fists were clenched tight at her sides. 

“I already know what you're going to say." She said before they could even speak, "I’ve known what the sickness was this whole time, I just didn’t want to say anything…” The blonde dusted her bangs back from her eyes, “For Maker’s sake, our _son_ admitted the truth before we did."

She reluctantly turned toward the two, releasing a heavy breath, "Now, we have to accept what we need to do next.”

The cold, knowing silence that followed seemed to strike her words home.

“He’ll do nothing but suffer more if we leave him like this. Everyone knows the sickness is a slow, torturous fate. It’s unfair to leave him like that, too selfish. He would never want that, much less if we were in his position.”

Mr. Arlert stepped forward, holding out a hand as if he were a mage about to cast a spell. Instead, he hung his head low, “Before we do anything, I just… need to speak to him before anything happens. So he understands we're doing it for the greater good. It’s the least I could do.” His voice trembled, regret lacing his words.

The family started towards the lone room, which lay untouched since Armin and his father left for their trip.

Mrs. Arlert’s hand clutched the rusted copper doorknob, heart pounding with uncertainty, and dreading to see that sunken, sickly pale face again.

Sure enough, the lock clicked open and the door fell open to reveal the dull, murky colors of her father-in-law's room. 

Bright white beamed between aged honey yellow drapes, the musky scent of dust and firewood filled the family’s noses. An eerie quiet filled the air as well.

It was then they realized, with the distant softness in the air, no sound of labored, heavy breathing at all -- The once clear and broad presence of the man in the rocking chair was long gone. Grandpa was gone. No trace of the wise elder mage remained.

“...What?” Mr. Arlert gasped, eyes darting around the room before bulging wide, “There’s no way…! It couldn’t have happened that fast, couldn't it?!”

Armin’s mother inspected the floor beside the chair the man sat in prior. She masked the terror on her face with studious determination, although the frantic haze of her eyes was still clear, “It’s not impossible. There were plenty of warning signs we ignored, we… must have been too late.”

She clasped a piece of discarded fabric between her fingertips, “He may have been taken by force, or left by his own free will. ‘Lured by the call of the archdemon,’ the books say. That’s what happens when the taint takes over.”

Armin’s heart pumped frantically in his chest, his own terrified blue iris’ going wide, “So what do we do? Just let them take him without doing a thing about it!?”

“I’m afraid we might not have a choice.” Mrs. Alert claimed, narrowing her brow. She plucked a few glass shards from the floor, whose once belonged to the whole vial of darkspawn blood not long ago. “There’s no telling what they’re planning, if anything. This might all be some horrible coincidence for all we know.”

She huffed through her nose, “They could be anywhere. But we can’t put ourselves at risk searching for him. There’s a possibility that that’s what those things want us to do.”

“But why us?” Mr. Arlert interjected, panic consuming his voice, “What could we have that they want? We have nothing special to give, nothing of value -- is needless violence and death all these monsters crave!?”

“It’s what they’re known for." Mrs. Arlert continued, "But people always underestimate their tact for strategy. It's easy to forget that bloodthirsty brutes of war can think like we can. Nevertheless, we’ll have to sleep with one eye open tonight. Darkspawn crave bloodshed like animals crave meat.”

"Their presence must explain the lack of wildlife as well." Armin chimed in, speculating,"They've been gone for awhile now. The darkspawn blood me and dad found already began corrupting flowers with taint. All in just a few days…"

"That's right." Mrs. Arlert said, "I'll have to inform the Chantry about all this, and hopefully we have enough evidence to not seem mad. Then, at least, we should have some time to prepare just in case disaster strikes."

"There's nothing we can do but pray that we have enough time."

  
  
  


###

  
  
  


Armin spent the night twisting and turning in his bed, craving the merciful serenity of sleep. 

But right when he was on the brink, more grotesque images spawned behind his eyes.

It was of his grandfather. He imagined his familiar dark pecan eyes, devoid of life and so pale that he appeared blind. His bloodless skin sunken and thin as paper, practically clinging onto his skull. Chunks of decaying hair and flesh dropping to the floor, voice no longer recognizable, croaking with shrieks that only resembled the monster that he now was: A shambling corpse.

Armin found himself curling up into a ball, fighting back tears and smacking his head to make the cursed thoughts stop. He wanted no more than to escape his mind's ruthless torment, flee back into the strange world he had been in only a night before.

It was where he had seen the fabled archdemon in all of its glory. Felt its searing flames on his skin, inspected every detail from its beak to its claws.

Armin had only found himself in the bizzare mental realm a few times before. But the visits were becoming more frequent. And everytime felt less and less like a blurry dream and more like he was there in person. He began to feel things as if they were real, and discovered that many of his thoughts and fears appeared right before his eyes.

He had read stories about the Fade. He knew only mages could enter and exit the place spiritually whenever they slept. But still, he wasn't quite sure. The things he'd seen didn't match the eerie serenity the books described. His dreams were mainly figments of his imagination, usually blurry and forgotten by the time he awoken. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, he thought.

Come to think of it, his grandpa used to tell him of his experiences in the Fade. He recalled words of how surreal and peculiar it was. Like reaching out for something so far away, yet never coming close.

He said it was a realm beyond comprehension, but also capable of being shaped and molded like clay. At least for the ones who understood it well enough. 

Grandpa described using his own sheer willpower to fend off hungry demons. How eager spirits were to both interact and possess vulnerable mages, some offering helpful advice for the living world and some bid on manipulating welders to their doom. His grandfather also shared how to conjure fire, electricity, and ice from his fingertips.

Armin recalled him guiding his hands in circular motions, explaining how he would set his mind on a certain element, and make it a part of himself.

'It's like being weightless,' He had said, 'free from the shackles of reality. Magic is strange. Sometimes different emotions correspond with certain elements. Sometimes, you summon a specific one on impulse.'

'You may feel like no more than a grain of sand in the fade, but it's no more than a puzzle. The trick is, discovering what kind of puzzle it is.'

  
  


Before Armin was able to fully drift off to sleep, he heard a soft ' _thump'_ on his window. In his half-asleep state, he paid it no mind. 

_'Might just be that hungry cat again.'_ He thought, tucking his nose deeper into his pillow. _'I'll feed him tomorrow.'_

He was too physically and emotionally exhausted to deal with it right then. Much less to even remember the absence of woodland critters for the past few days.

Nighttime thoughts were absurd.

The thumping soon resembled the sound of tree limbs whacking the roof during a storm. Armin imagined the sight of a heavy, persistent rainfall beating down upon the prairie outside his home. Thinking of the soothing drizzle and inhaling the moist, earthly scent was enough to almost lure him back into the dreamy, blurry domain.

Close, so close. But right before he could tip over the edge, those beautiful water droplets sparked into fire -- a dull, amber glow. They were grazing along the lone prairie around his home, behind the trees. An eerie, discolored fog loomed over the sky.

The image didn't quite sink in, not until he heard his mother shrieking out his name.

The sound of glass being shattered and crunched under-foot suddenly filled his room. Without thinking, Armin's eyes snapped open, body lurching upright on pure instinct.

In that instant, his bright blue eyes pierced a thing he never thought he would ever see in his life.

Cold, empty, pupil-less eyes stared back at him. Battle scars decorated every part of its exposed flesh. Sandpaper skin cracked in thick splinters down to its mouth, which smiled wickedly at him.

Its face was sucked dry of any colors. Nothing but dull, pale grays and dark red smattered on its skull.

Armin's heart nearly stopped at the sight. His mouth fell open in a silent scream, eyes bulging in their sockets. 

Not knowing what to do, never even imagining he could ever be unlucky enough to be in this situation -- he froze. 

He did nothing but stare back at the tainted being, who held an enormous, jagged silver blade at its side. It was splattered with deep crimson blood, and Armin found himself wondering who's blood it belonged to. And if his blood would be on there next.

Before he could blink, he was dragged off the bed by a fist in his hair. Within a second, he was thrown, tumbling to the floor like a lifeless orlesian doll. He found himself not wanting to move a muscle for a split moment, praying that they thought he was dead and moved along.

But instead, Armin met the face of the second darkspawn, whose face was streaked with a frightening stark white paint. It was obscured by a massive metal helmet, crowned with twisted horns and spikes protruding like spines. 

The curve of an enormous axe on its back caught his eye. He knew what the creature was straight away. A hurlock alpha. The leader of a darkspawn pack.

The sound of his mother screaming out his name tore through his ears once more. Armin’s body took a mind of its own, and he scrambled to his feet within a heartbeat.

The boy plowed past the two monsters, vaguely sensing a familiar axe smashing into a wooden counter behind him. His shoulder slammed into the door that led to the kitchen, and he slammed it shut on pure impulse.

Armin leapt back as a shelf tipped over in front of him, countless household accessories toppled into the floor with it. Mrs. Arlert appeared beside him, hauling a table over in two hands. She flipped it on its side, before she grabbed her son by the shoulders.

“Are you alright?” She asked, her hazel eyes quickly scanning him over, searching for any injuries.

“Yeah…” Was all Armin could say, visibly quivering in place.

Mrs. Arlert rubbed a knuckle over her blood-splattered brow, clearly cursing herself for being so foolish, “The darkspawn came out of nowhere, I had no idea they would…”

Armin noticed all of the windows were boarded up, and darkspawn growls and marching footsteps filled the house. 

“Your father left not long ago to check on the Chantry. He told me he had a bad feeling, that it was too quiet. He was right.” Mrs. Arlert shook her head in near disbelief, “We can only pray he comes home safe. I fear that the Chantry couldn’t prepare the militia fast enough. There’s too many, we can’t stay here much longer. We need to leave as soon as we can.”

Right on time, the hurlock alpha's axe tore into the wood of Armin’s bedroom door. The horrible, relentless racket of metal splitting wood was all they could hear. Mrs. Arlert huffed and bent down to shuffle through various discarded weapons on the ground. 

It was only then Armin noticed the darkspawn corpses littering the floor, four in total. All of them were dismembered and in gruesome, bloody conditions. Which explained the blood soaked into his mother’s apron and speckled on her skin. The sight alone shook him to the core.

Before he could blink, a sword was shoved into his trembling hands. His pupils wavered on the freshly crafted steel.

“I didn’t want to make you do this, but we don’t have a choice." His mother declared, "It’s life or death from here on out.” 

The swift _‘crunch’_ of another weapon striking wood filled their ears. Only this time, there were multiple swinging at once.

Mrs. Arlert brandished a weapon of her own, with both fear and determination swirling in her eyes, “Just remember what your father and I taught you,” _‘Crunch,’_ “Remember what they did to your grandfather,” _‘Crunch,’_ “Unleash that anger, fight their hate with your own.” _‘Crunch,’_ “And don't let them take anything else away from us!”

The shelf and table burst apart in an explosion of splinters, revealing five tainted beasts thirsty for human blood.

Armin’s heart hammered in his chest, beating against his rib cage as if it wanted to burst from his body. He suddenly felt dwarfed in comparison to the monsters. They were all a foot or two taller than him and his mother, with a starved and angry look in their eyes.

Two of them began to advance, and distantly, Armin could hear the sound of glass cracking from the boarded up windows. He had no time to pay it any mind.

The two darkspawn launched at him at once, gnarled teeth bared and swords slicing at the air. 

Armin had no choice but to react. He parried the first blow that came his way with a _‘CLANG.’_ The boy threw his weight into the first swing he did, which barely brushed the darkspawn’s armor. He fumbled back as a hurlock alpha swung its enormous axe his way.

Sounds of his mother’s angry grunts and cries consumed Armin’s head as he stood unsteadily on his feet, trying so hard to remember what his father and her had taught him.

Upon instinct, he gripped the sword in one hand, launching forward and miraculously plunging the metal deep into the beast’s stomach. It was a pure miracle in and of itself.

Crimson blood instantly spilled down Armin’s wrist, and his face contorted both in sheer horror and disgust.

He barely caught enough time to retract his sword and thrust it awkwardly up in a messy upper sweep. It successfully whacked the sword from the darkspawn’s grasp and slashed a thick line into the other painted skull one’s face. They both let out a high pitched shriek of pain, which twisted the boy’s stomach as he watched them both collapse to the floor.

It was that moment Armin knew that the Maker was on his side.

The clean slice of Mrs. Arlert's two daggers to the neck dealt with them before they could stand. A twist, and a head was severed and slapped to the floor beside Armin, who could only stare at it in wordless terror.

His mother wiped the sweat from her brow, leaving a long red streak over her forehead. She continued slashing at the last darkspawn in the room, dual daggers cracking against each other every now and then.

Blood was everywhere. 

It sprouted from the darkspawn corpses to Armin's sword, and his hands and now his face. 

He was sure the smell of the blood was like the taste: foul, bitter, sour. The thought of his grandfather drinking that without knowing it, imagining the burnt taste settling on his tongue, made his skin crawl.

Armin peered beside him to find even more darkspawn climbing in through the windows, the wooden barricades broken into useless pieces of lumber.

It was then Armin could see it, see _it_ , the dull amber lights and the fog and the endless marching monsters from outside. There were hundreds, if not thousands. Too many, far too many to handle all at once.

They kept coming, crawling in one after another. Each one looking no different than the last, some shorter, some taller. Some with grotesque yet fascinating helmets and various altered weapons, swords, maces, axes, Maker knows all else.

There were ten inside the house then, all crowded together, bloodied steel and silver drawn, snarling at him, advancing in at all directions. 

_‘This is it…’_ Armin thought, knot swelling up in his throat. Knowing that they were outnumbered, knowing that nothing but an impossible miracle could help them at that inescapable point. _‘We’re going to die here.’_

Mrs. Arlert seemed to realize it, too.

She stood stiff, blades extended in front of Armin. Her breath was heavy, almost constricted, but the look she gave her son was one of hope and determination.

He could hear her hiss through her teeth, her conflicting stare causing him to falter in his tracks.

“Run, please run and don’t look back.”

Armin saw her poise shift, dual blades held at the ready, and she launched. His mother spun like a silver coin, metal ripping apart flesh filled the air.

Armin did what she said, felt like he didn’t have a choice. 

His legs worked on their own accord. He didn’t think, couldn’t think of what to do, as much as he wanted to.

He wanted to go back, fight like the man he was supposed to be, the man he should've been, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t, like the damned coward he knew he was. What he always had been. Useless, so damn _useless--_ He felt a fist tug at the roots of his hair again, and agony halted all movement.

The thing held him in mid air with one hand. It was the axe wielding darkspawn from before. The hurlock alpha.

As soon as he was inspected long enough -- for several long seconds -- he was lobbed across the room and knocked flat into a wall. His right cheek slammed against it, hard enough to bruise.

Armin fell flat on his back, staring up to see the beast already hefting an axe over its head. The jagged scar he had caused starkly contrasting the white face paint. 

The world seemed to roll in slow motion. Armin could see the muscle in the monster’s neck jolt, the sharp, barbed edge of the axe blade coming down on him.

  
  


_‘Is this how I die?’_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


No. 

  
  
  
  


No, not like this.

  
  
  
  


He needed to do it for his grandpa.

  
  
  
  
  


_‘Don’t let them take anything else away from us!’_

  
  


His mother’s desperate words shrieked at him, ricocheting in his head, fueling him to fight.

  
  
  
  


But it was too close.

  
  
  


The blade was so close.

  
  
  


Armin could imagine the brunt striking him, chucking straight into his stomach -- just like he did to that darkspawn not long ago.

  
  


He imagined the blood spewing from his mouth, agony blurring the world around him in shades of red and black -- fast, too fast, and he screamed, screamed for that impossible miracle to happen.

  
  
  
  
  


And in return, the Maker decided to bless him once more.

  
  


Out of nowhere, Armin felt an unseen force leap and tackle the darkspawn to the ground. The axe flung into a wall inches away from Armin, and his eyes bulged at the sight of his father wrestling the beast with a cutlass in his hand.

Mr. Arlert's shoulders were visibly trembling, slices and gashes marring his armor and skin. There was an awful one on his forearm, where his gauntlet was ripped clean from his armor. A massive, ugly slice where his skin was torn open and oozing blood.

Still, Mr. Arlert erupted into a battlecry, his cutlass sinking into the darkspawn's chest to the hilt, killing it instantly.

They had no time to celebrate their victory however, for even more monsters replaced the ones they killed. The count doubled, tripled.

Dozens swarmed in around them, snapping their teeth, blood lathering their demonic faces.

Armin could see his mother still slashing and twirling and fighting with all her might. 

But then, she stopped. She, too, was surrounded with no way out. There were too many around her, encircling her. All with blades drawn and ready to strike at any moment.

Armin cried out in terror, calling out her name as if it was enough to save her. Mrs. Arlert's hazel eyes met his, with a strangely calm haze in them.

It was one of fatigue, acceptance, sacrifice.

The darkspawn advanced, not giving a second to rest. Eager to tear flesh apart until it was unrecognizable, taste the irony copper on their tongues.

Not thinking, Armin reached out a hand, blind to all the darkspawn advancing on him as well.

_'Please, please Maker, no.'_ He thought, tears filling his eyes.

As instant as a heart beat, a darkspawn yanked his mother by the shoulder, taking its sword and ramming it straight into her stomach.

The sickly, wet slurping noise made Armin sick with unbridled horror. His mother's sweet, reassuring words were replaced by an endless gush of blood. Never ending.

Armin could only scream with no words, just pure agonizing anguish as his hand launched forward on instinct.

All he saw was his mother's blank, empty eyes and lifeless face. Her body lay there limp, teetering back and forth as they continued to slash their blades. They just kept stabbing and stabbing and stabbing until he couldn't tell what was happening anymore.

There wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. Nothing at all.

Armin couldn't take it anymore, it was too much. All he could think of was a dragon, an archdemon, a storm guzzling up to blow them all away. Anything to escape this nightmare.

It was then the room became hot. Too hot. Sweltering.

All the boy saw was gold filling the monsters' eyes. Bouncing off the walls as if a bomb was about to strike and kill them all in one blow. Leaving his home nothing but a black pile of ash and shambles. Not unlike the tainted flowers he had seen by the river.

But the strike never happened. Gold continued to glow in that very instant before it erupted into a brilliant inferno of colors. Yellow, orange, white, purple, red, blazing into the crowd of darkspawn and baking into their flesh.

It was fire. Flames soared from Armin's fingertips and struck the monsters in front of him. Their tattered cloaks and skin sparked and lit like the wick of a candle. 

A chorus of crackling and inhuman shrieks bounced off the walls, fire continuing to flare even when it dissipated from Armin's hands. 

He gasped in a sick mess of a million emotions, gawking at his palms in both astonishment and horror. The flames… came from him. Did that… could that possibly mean that…

"Armin…" His father spoke, that same flicker of fire still filling his eyes.

Armin knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to remind him what he said earlier. To never dread what he became, no matter what it was. That who he was, was what truly mattered.

A part of his grandfather stayed with him, and he couldn't waste it. Not when he just found out it was true.

All Mr. Arlert could say was the same as Armin's mother.

  
  


"Run."

  
  


\---

  
  


Armin ran.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Nearly snapping the hinges on the front door as he juked and twisted through the fumbling horde of darkspawn surrounding him. The horrific ‘ _crunch’_ and his father’s final cry of absolute agony was the last thing he heard. It rang through his head like a bell, fueling him to keep running and running and running so he didn’t end up the same way.

Mindless panic and disbelief clutched at his throat. The tears would not stop flooding and rolling down his cheeks. They blurred the world around him in a bloated swirl of colors and shapes. But none of it mattered. 

Everything was ripped from him that night. His grandpa, his mother, his father, his home, his dignity. 

It didn’t seem like a coincidence that the warning signs lined up the past few nights. The animals disappearing, grandpa’s sickness worsening, the dying flowers, the vial of blood.

It all led up to it, and Armin cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. He should've known this would happen. The blood was on his hands. If only he had said something, anything. Anything to prevent the disaster from reaching his home as fast as it did.

Even if there was nothing he could do, there was that slight, insignificant hope that there was something he could have said, something he could have done. He couldn’t help but feel like it was all his fault.

The books taught him well, but they could have never prepared him for this.

  
  
  


Armin charged into the forest at a break-neck speed.

He could only pray to the Maker that none of the darkspawn saw him. He dashed past a series of unending trees, branches whacking him in the face and tripping his ankles. He prayed that none of them heard his bare feet rustling past forest brush and snapping twigs.

Armin refused to stop until his chest heaved and his legs gave out from under him. His throat ached as if it were full of knives, chest burning as if to make up for how he rose from the disaster unscathed. He collapsed to his knees, heaving for breath under the root of a giant tree.

The booming chorus of thousands of darkspawn had somehow faded away, replaced by an eerie, quiet whirring noise he could barely describe.

It was ambient, unsettling. It made him feel as if there were something watching him, even when there wasn't.

The trees seemed to fold in on themselves, branches curling and twisting in a grotesque manner as if reaching out to grab him.

Armin's heart pounded again as if it wanted to break out of his rib cage. He curled into the giant tree root, rubbing the rough wooden grooves and soft moss to remind himself that he was still alive -- someway, somehow. 

The root was the only thing separating him from the open forest. Which was nothing but trees and more trees stacked on top of one another.

Armin couldn't remember which way he came from. Every direction looked the same. Each rolling hill, pile of sticks and bush looked the same. And it was only then that he realized he was lost.

Trapped in this nightmare with nowhere to go.

No home to go back to.

How would he defend himself? How would he eat? Would he even know how to build a fire or survive long enough to evade the darkspawn horde infesting the countryside?

Even more awful thoughts tore into his mind. He was an apostate. An orphan. What were the chances of a templar finding him, tracking him down and killing him for not being in the Circle of Magi? Just because his family didn't expect him to be a mage, and dreaded the thought of him being stolen away from them forever, like they had so many. 

The books described the Circle so sweetly: A lively, educational and joyful place much like a school would be. Not like the prison, butcher and slavery it truly was. All Armin knew was that mages were imprisoned and worked there until they were declared ready enough for a harrowing. Maker knows what that was. And if they didn't, or they failed, they would either be slaughtered on sight or made tranquil.

Armin knew all too well that being made tranquil was much worse than the books made it out to be.

Then there was the concern of demonic possession. What was stopping him from being attacked by a spirit the next time he was in the Fade? Would he have enough mental strength and willpower to fend it off? Or would he be too weak and succumb? He could imagine the demon flooding his body and bloating, mutilating it until he was unrecognizable. Nothing but a disgusting mass of muscle to be used as a vessel to destroy anything in its path.

A sudden audible whimper cut his thoughts off in their tracks.

There were noises. Grating his ears, slithering back and forth in the leaves close by. _‘Sslsh, sslsh, sslsh…’_ and an animalistic sound full of grueling torment.

It sounded like a distorted growl, almost as if it were stuck in the thing’s throat, clucking like the strings of a broken fiddle.

Armin didn't dare make a sound. Only his eyes moved, tracking how close it was drawing to his position.

The first thing he saw of the thing was its snout, dragging across the dirt and sniffing deep. Back and forth, back and forth, it dragged.

He spotted two horribly familiar blank eyes, this time paired with a broad, prickly presence. The fur was mostly gone with large spines in their wake. They ripped outwards from the inflamed red skin, distorting its shape into one disturbingly recognizable.

Armin remembered being fascinated by many of the blight-inflicted creatures in his books. This was the one which stood out to him, mainly because of its peculiar name: bernscarn. It was strange enough to match its bizarre and mighty appearance.

Armin curled his back further against the mighty oak behind him, trying not to breathe as the thing leered dangerously close to his vicinity.

It wasn't enough. For he saw the bernscarn's blank eyes burst alive, and it bellowed a mighty roar, teeth snarling, and further distorting its horrific appearance.

Armin did the only thing he could think to do. He staggered to his feet, lurching to the left just in time to avoid the thing's crushing jaws. 

He ran. Ran, even when he was so sick of running. So sick of trying to stay alive. What was the point of living if he knew he would end up dying anyway?

Part of him wanted to just tumble to the ground and let the bear kill him. It would be a much more merciful fate than what awaited him outside the gates of his village, anyways.

But something about the way the bernscarn growled and bounded after him, uncoordinated and foaming at the mouth, goaded him on.

Armin had seen enough death that night. There were too many sacrifices in his name, and he didn't want any of them to die in vain. Not for him. Not like this.

So when the boy lost his footing on a steep hill, tripping, tumbling down and splashing into a river, he cursed himself. Cursed the darkspawn. Cursed the world for being so cruel. But he didn't curse the Maker. He knew that this night was a test of faith, and that he had failed.

Armin stared at the mighty jaws snapping before him through the soaked bangs dripping over his eyes. The teeth were so close to his face, to his throat.

He had to accept that he would just be another nameless life lost to a darkspawn horde. Nothing but another nonexistent flaming boat, with no one left to remember and much less mourn him.

Through one final spark of determination left in him, he tried to summon fire once more. But nothing came. Not even a feeble flicker of flame.

Nothing but the snarling face of the vicious beast, its jaws gaping, preparing to clamp and sink into juicy flesh--

  
  
  


_Crunch._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The bite never came.

  
  


Armin opened his eyes, failing to notice the giant bloodied metal shard protruding from the bear's chest until it slumped over on its side.

The blond could hardly comprehend the sight of a humanoid form standing before him.

Armin blinked, not believing his eyes. Was it a darkspawn? A spirit? A human?

Only when he could see its figure clear did he know the truth.

Judging by his face, he could've been no older than 17 at most. Dark brown hair crowned his forehead, locks nipping the edge of his brow and growing longer towards the back of his neck. Blood splatters marred his tanned skin and trickled down the tattered scraps of his armor.

The brunette shucked his blade from the bernscarn's carcass, shoving it in a holster on his back. 

His vibrant, piercing green eyes met Armin's, and both pairs went wide in unison.

"Eren? How… how did you get here?" Armin spoke, nearly speechless, "I thought you left for Redcliffe with your family months ago… Why did you come back? Did the darkspawn come for you too?"

Eren narrowed his eyes at the mention, staring at the ground and gritting his teeth, "Yeah. It was those damn monsters. There were so many. They came out of nowhere and attacked when we least expected it. We never even got to Redcliffe."

Eren sighed deeply with a small sense of relief, "It's good to see you're ok, Armin." He said, his voice cracking slightly, "I tried to… to save my family, but…" He fell quiet, turning his head to the side, but Armin could still catch the glint of a tear rolling down his cheek, "There was nothing I could do."

"...Mikasa too?" Armin questioned as his eyes widened, fearing for the worst.

"I couldn't find her anywhere." Eren answered, guilt tinging his tone, "Darkspawn were everywhere. I came here to find safety, but the horde stretched on for miles." He narrowed his eyes again and seethed, "If only I could've done something."

Armin cast his eyes downwards, watching the air scattering leaves on the forest floor, "So… no different than my situation, then."

The lights in Eren's eyes suddenly sank deeper, "You lost everything too, huh?"

Armin could only nod, unfolding his hands and inspecting the grooves of his palms, "I… also found out why I was having those dreams…" He continued, reluctant yet still somewhat eager to share his newfound discovery, "I'm an apostate, Eren. A mage. I… didn't realize it until…"

It was too late.

Tears built in the corners of his eyes. He couldn't even attempt to hide them, for they were already spilling down his face. Before he knew it, he was sobbing.

"It's alright." Eren said, setting a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, "...I know... someone who feels the same way." His pupils shifted along the trees, unable to make eye contact, "It'll be fine. Now that we're together, at least."

"Yeah." Armin said, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. "We need to find Mikasa. There's no way she's gone that fast. She must be out there looking for us, too."

"I know she is, and we'll find her. After all we've been through… for her to go out like that…" Eren shook his head at the thought, "It wouldn't be right."

He glanced back up to Armin, his eyes piercing with that same unstoppable determination they had so long ago, "There has to be a way to fix this. No matter what it takes."

  
  


And so, the adventure began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Armin being a mage is something that becomes very important throughout the story. If you know anything about the lore of Dragon Age then you know what I mean lol
> 
> I had to read a bunch of wikis on the Circle of Magi and Mages to come up with Armin being a "late-bloomer" with magic and even thinking about him being a Hedge Mage. It really made me wonder what would happen if a family simply didn't know their child had magic or didn't want to give them up to the Chantry over it.
> 
> It's a very complicated thing and who's to say no mage could pretend to be a warrior/rogue so they wouldn't be attacked over their powers? The possibilities truly are endless, afterall.
> 
> I also enjoyed giving Armin's family more of a personality for this story, which makes their fate all the more tragic. Trust me, I almost did not want to kill them off the way I did. Then again, darkspawn are horrifying for a reason. And sometimes the only way to prove that is to let them do what they do best.
> 
> With that said, although Armin remained unscathed this chapter due to 'impossible miracles' and sheer luck, that will definitely not be the case for future chapters. If you've read any of my other AOT stories, you should know how ruthless I can be with torturing these poor innocent characters lmao. Just keep in mind for the rest of the story -- that there are no good tales without stakes and unpredictability.^^
> 
> Eren will definitely have an important role next chapter. With them both being 19 later, expect somewhat of a duo between him and Armin, which is pretty ironic considering what's happening in the anime right now.
> 
> Don't be afraid to drop any kudos and comments if you'd like. Stay tuned for the next chapter, where things will really pick up and delve into that sweet, Dragon Age goodness.
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.^^


	2. Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After two long years, Eren and Armin finally venture into the outside world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back fellow readers, this is where I can say the story officially begins.
> 
> The two year timeskip starts here, and as the summary states, this is where Eren and Armin finally venture into the unknown.
> 
> This was a very interesting chapter to write, especially with all that's happening in the anime and manga right now. You'll see why once you read lol.
> 
> I also had time to make some artwork of Eren and Armin's designs and outfits. Just to give an idea of what they would wear and look like, even if my artstyle contrasts the setting and theme -- I couldn't resist lmao.
> 
> Let me know if you'd like to see more. I'm already working on some tarot card things and sketches I'll probably include in the next chapter, so stay tuned if you're interested.
> 
> Lastly, I'll leave most of my thoughts at the end to avoid spoilers, since so much happens in this chapter.
> 
> With that said, please enjoy.

…

Eren said two years was long enough.

Armin knew that wasn't true, but that wasn't enough to convince Eren otherwise.

Eren told him he wanted to make up for what happened that night. He wanted to avenge his mother, find out where the darkspawn were hiding, explore the outside world, and find Mikasa at last. But even what was once such a simple task was much more complex, even impossible at the rate they were going.

Eren wanted to be free. He wanted to be free of his guilt and worries, escape the cage of everyday life to find something more.

He wanted to see the things Armin talked about in the books, touch things people thought were impossible.

Once Eren made up his mind, there was no stopping him. And Armin had no choice but to follow him.

For he, too, wanted to be free.

...

A refreshing morning breeze swathed past Armin’s face, brushing the flaxen bangs from his eyes. It was so quiet outside, a familiar, welcoming, tranquil kind of quiet. But it was also one which sent the memory of fear spiking up his spine.

It reminded him of that night. The night everything was ripped away from him. Two years had passed since then. Two years full of hiding and secrecy, yet also relaxing and resting for as long as his temporary peace would let him.

It only took Armin and Eren a few hours to reach Redcliffe that night. Yet, it still felt like the longest night of their lives. And once the sun rose the next morning, there was no trace of the darkspawn in sight.

Ever since then, the duo and the entire nation were on edge for the future. Everyone anticipated when the darkspawn would return, but no one knew when that day was.

The branches from the mighty oaks bounced and fluttered in the wind. Sunlight was just beginning to peek above the cleft of the horizon. Chirps of nearby woodland critters and birds reverberated through the forest, almost calling out to Armin and luring him back into the nostalgic serenity he once knew so well.

The forest seemed to loop inside of itself. Bending, twisting, curling, neverending.

Trees towered over the hills like massive pillars keeping the woods in place. Animals skittered to and fro each time the duo came too close.

Armin sucked in the sweet pecan tree scent through his nose. It was just as tranquil and nostalgic as he remembered, as it had always been.

There was a subtle eeriness about it as well. Loneliness, untouched mystery, came alongside the strange feeling of wandering aimlessly in the secluded area overrun by nature.

Neither he or Eren knew where their next destination would be. They simply took off in one direction and hoped that they would find something worthwhile. Like aimless nomads venturing off into a dangerous, untouched world.

Armin found himself inspecting every beautiful daisy, blade of grass, and even the bundles of weeds he passed. Knowing that there was a chance they could be gone sometime in the future. That an intruding darkness could come and yank every plant by the root and stomp them until dead.

The thought twisted pity in his heart. Knowing that there was a time when he was too naive to realize that death could come that swift.

The image of mangled black, rotted plants spawned in his mind, a gurgled scream, an axe splitting wood, a blank face, blood everywhere, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

“So…” Armin breathed, clearing his throat, “What made you want to pick up and leave so fast, Eren?”

It was a pointless question, really.

He already expected the answer, knowing it would be a full circle back to what made them set off in the first place.

But anything was better than the numbing silence that consumed the desolate woods.

“I feel like we’ve settled and trained long enough.” Eren claimed, the words soft on his tongue.

His bright blue-green eyes gazed up at the sunlight streaming through auburn trees, unwavering. “For two whole years, we were just sitting there. Hiding our origins, concealing your powers, sleeping in that Chantry every night… Even those men who helped train us for so long, we couldn’t even trust them enough to tell them our whole story. In fear of them sending you to the Circle to be slaughtered.”

Armin winced at the utter truth of his friend's words, but said nothing.

“It was about time we left." Eren claimed, "As much as training your powers could help us later, we can’t risk anyone finding out.”

The brunette's fingers automatically clasped at the hilt of his steel sword. He stroked the smooth rubber with a dull sigh, "If only the world was different than it is now."

“Yeah...” Armin said, pondering. He could only imagine a world full of unimaginable possibilities. One devoid of demonic possession, cruelty, and the fear of things others didn't understand.

If only such a world were true.

“It’s a wonder those people took us in." Armin said, "Even if we were orphaned and plundered by darkspawn. We were still strangers, there was no real reason to help us. But they did. It was kind of them." He paused a moment, letting the vibrant sunrise sink in. "That's why… I still think there's hope for a better world."

Eren kicked a stone with the toe of his boot, “I bet they thought they had no choice but to let us in. No place would wanna be responsible for two kids starving alone in the woods. But then again, that means you're right. Maybe there is hope."

Eren’s eyes settled on the cusp of the forest trail. He stared at the splotchy orange morning sky past the trees, not unlike the unwavering determination he had when he first reunited with Armin not so long ago. They had changed so much, yet so little.

Eren had grown his hair out further since then, regularly tying it into a bundle at the base of his neck. He had also grown enough to fit into, what he claimed to be, his father’s armor. It was a crisp teal in color, bulky, with several indents in the chestplate and thick plates of rubber underneath.

Despite him claiming that his father had given it to him long ago, it appeared freshly crafted, with little to no signs of usage or damage.

Armin, in contrast, wore a simple sleeveless brown cloak with a black garb beneathe. Two dual blades were stashed on his back, which he decided were better than nothing.

He had gotten used to drawing magic with his hands, and decided that using the blades as a counter attack could be useful later on. He had also cut his hair shorter, the strands barely slipping past his ears now. He decided it was time for a change since he and Eren became of age.

Armin felt like something changed in him that night, only so many moons ago. Both of them changed, shifted, in a way he couldn’t describe. There were subtle things, like his thoughts, mannerisms…

But mostly, they were still the same kids they were back then. As shattered as their innocence was, they were sure that what lay beyond the forest's border was much more horrific than they could comprehend.

And of course, Eren took that as a challenge.

“Is there any other reason you wanted to leave?” Armin goaded on, testing his friend’s supposed excuses for adventure, “Did you find any trace of Mikasa? Or is there some sort of conflict near here you wanted to take part in?”

Eren’s lips perked up in a slight smile, “I’ll leave it up to your imagination."

"Right." Armin replied, bluntly.

Eren almost smirked back at him. "Don't worry, I have no idea where we're going either. We could be walking straight into starvation and death for all I know."

The response did nothing to change Armin's unamused expression.

"However, I did scope out somewhere this direction not long ago, just to see if it’s safe.” Eren continued as he yanked a sizable twig off of a tree branch he passed, “Didn’t sense anything so I guess it is. If that makes you feel any better, anyways."

Armin almost rolled his eyes, if he had enough nerve to do so. “Did you use your war cry to scan the area for darkspawn again?” He uttered, "If only I'd seen it with my own eyes."

"Yeah, you should've." Eren snorted, "I just screamed my lungs out and waved my arms around in the middle of the woods. Woke up all the neighbors too.” He laughed a bit, “Or better yet, I used my magical mage powers to bend the veil, or whatever the hell you do to detect stuff.” He began to wave his stick around like a mage staff, the leaves slapping Armin in the face once or twice.

“Ah! Eren-”

“Imagine that, the mighty Eren Jaeger, a proud mage.” Eren swung the branch to and fro, tossing it back and forth in his hands, “Decimating everything that dares come in his path, leaving nothing but fire, destruction and terror in his wake.”

Armin couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend's performance. He never failed to make the world a small bit brighter than it was.

“Be prepared, you might not be the only mage around for long.” Eren warned, reeling forward and drawing back his ‘staff’ like the mage he claimed to be.

“Funny.” Armin said, smiling, “Once you start summoning fire when you get in fist fights with bandits, let me know.”

“I will, don’t you worry.”

They both laughed some more, before the tranquil woodland silence caught back up with them.

The two decided to relish it while it lasted. For they knew that what lay ahead of them was going to be a test of the mind, body and spirit.

Too bad they could only ponder which of those tests it would be.

  
  


...

  
  


The lush, green forest soon crumbled into dry, barren grass. Only a few shrubs and bushes remained, as if they had somehow stumbled upon a savannah or grassland.

"Why is the forest receding?" Armin spoke, eying the sudden appearance of tree stumps surrounding them.

It was like a heavy fog was lifted, and stumps, hills and grass were all that could be seen.

"Must be settlers. There's probably a village or campground nearby." Eren claimed.

"But there's so many..." Armin couldn't help but spin around, gawking at the destruction that seized the world around them. There was no end in sight.

"Who could do this?"

Chunks of logs and lumber lay discarded across the wasteland, all abandoned waste littering the ground. What must have once been a massive, ripe landscape lay in shambles. Like an animal's carcass picked off until stripped to the bone.

"What kind of village could use this much wood? Look, there's plenty of lumber to spare." Armin continued, pointing at the final remnants of nature. Nothing but rotting wood and weeds. "It's like they were left on purpose, but why?"

"Damn, you're right… we could build a fortress with this many trees…" Eren breathed in awe. He knelt down to inspect one of the stumps, pupils tracing the lines swirling from the center to the edges. He shucked off his gauntlet to drag a finger across the surface.

"It's still fresh somehow, like someone just chopped this down yesterday." He rubbed his index finger and thumb together, brows furrowing as he discovered a sticky yellowish substance.

"Tree sap." Armin declared, stroking his chin, "Maybe it could be a healing syrup, or maybe it has magical properties for all we know."

Eren yanked his gauntlet back on and stood to his feet, "Yeah, that would explain why none of these ones are dead yet, for whatever reason."

"There's gotta be someone nearby who knows why this is here." Armin trailed, glancing off somewhere in the horizon, "I think I see the gates of a village over there, past those trees."

"Let's check it out."

  
  
  


It wasn't long before Armin and Eren approached the entrance of a small rural village. 

An abrupt burst of paranoia fell over the two of them at the sight. They felt so intrusive, out of place, alone. Their minds began to race. What were the chances of them being slaughtered for trespassing or intruding?

And yet, they were also captivated. There was a mysterious allure of being somewhere so isolated and unknown. The thought sent thrill up their spines, mainly Eren's.

"Who goes there?" A man's booming voice shook the wooden pillars surrounding them. "What business have you? Are you visitors, traders, mercenaries?"

Armin was about to speak but Eren stopped him before he could, "Leave the talking to me." He whispered, "I got this."

Eren stepped forward and raised his voice to full volume, "We are just visitors, sir. We were only meaning to ask if you've seen a raven-haired girl nearby lately, and also wondering of the lack of trees South of here. We are just curious adventurers, and once we know, we'll be on our way."

"Adventurers, huh?" The man echoed, almost chuckling. His thick, middle-aged, and tanned face emerged from the top of the wooden walls.

He paused a moment, inspecting the duo before he continued, "We have seen no one other than you on our land. The trees are no concern to you, I assure you. We don't treat outsiders here. I suggest you go on your way." Was all he said before he receded below the wall again.

"Are you sure you don't need any assistance? I don't see why else you'd cut the whole forest down just for some wood and tree sap." Eren intervened.

"We don't have visitors often, I suggest you leave before you regret coming here."

"Fair enough, then. Have a nice day."

  
  


###

  
  


"Well, so much for that." Eren muttered, folding his arms across his chest. "Right when we found something interesting too. We can't give up that easy."

"Don't you think there's a reason that man warded us off? It might've been for the best." Armin interjected.

"You might be right, but at the same time, what's the point of a mystery if it can't be solved?"

"They probably don't want strangers to be involved or know that their defenses are limited."

"Which is more of a reason to help, isn't it!?"

"Not if we get killed trying to."

Eren groaned but fell silent, running out of retorts momentarily. He huffed and tracked the ground a bit, but what he least expected was to look up and find a pair of hunters walking the same path they were.

Judging by Armin's expression, he noticed them too.

"This is our chance!" Eren chanted, eyes ripe with determination again, "C'mon, just this one time and if they tell us no, we'll leave for good, alright?"

Of course, Armin knew he couldn't say no. For when Eren set his mind onto a goal, there was no stopping him.

So, he inevitably gave in, "Alright."

What was the worst that could happen?

  
  
  


Once the two villagers were close enough, Armin could see that they were too distracted to notice them right away. 

He could barely make out what they were saying, but he listened in regardless.

"I-I told you I heard it right beside me, I told you I did!"

"Calm down, it could've been anything. I've known these parts all my life, it must've been the sodding fennec you heard."

"That doesn't explain that rock that almost cracked my skull in the caves! It's a spirit, I tell you! A soddin' spirit!"

The two's lips sealed shut once the duo drew near. Silence filled the air momentarily as they could do nothing but stare back at each other. 

"You two aren't from here, are you?" The elder remarked, his hat cocked over his sharp hooked nose. "Apologies, but we're not supposed to speak to outsiders, no matter who or the situation."

"But maybe they can help us!" The younger hunter blurted out. His face was pale, sheet white but also desperate with bulging brown eyes. It was almost as if he had seen a ghost, which he very well might have.

Eren took the time to wink over at Armin, who was too shocked of the convenience to even react to him.

"Everyone's jus' been ignoring this damn ghost! Actin' like it'll up and fly away, it's even killed some of us! We gotta do something!" The younger man continued, a freshly wound blood stained bandage stark on his head.

His hooked-bill companion couldn't even bat an eye fast enough to shut him up before he was done. 

He simply tilted the brim of his hat further down and sighed. "Well, there's no point of hiding it now." He muttered under his breath, "But we still don't know what the sod it is. It could very well be a dumb animal causing havoc and driving our people mad."

"If we only had a mage for Maker's sake, we could at least talk with e'm." The younger hunter swore, frustrated. "The last of what the chief's sent out disappeared, so has all the others, and here you are thinkin' it's a damn fennec."

Armin and Eren could only exchange wordless glances, before Eren spoke up, "You can count on us. We'll make sure whatever it is never breathes again. You won't even have to tell your Chief, I swear it."

"Well, since you're so damn eager, you might as well." The old man muttered. "I'll also tell you this, our chief sent us out here to find a lost mage patrol. They went missing a few weeks ago along this path. If you find any trace of them, just let us know when you're done."

The younger man chimed in, grateful as ever, "Thanks for leavin' us out of this. We didn't wanna be the next one to get lost in these darn woods."

"You got it, sir."

  
  


###

  
  


The ridge of the cave loomed ominously over the duo as the small stumps grew into large tree trunks again.

There was an admirable difference between them and the surrounding trees, however. They were a crisp honey nut color, and golden syrup oozed down the bark like honey dripping down a honeycomb.

They were no ordinary trees, and that remarkable discovery was enough to keep Armin and Eren at ease for a moment longer. 

The glade was gorgeously smeared with varying shades of orange, red and yellow. So many trees faded off into the distance, and there was no telling how many of them were the special syrupy ones they'd seen.

Which begged the question: What were those people using it for, and why were they driving them extinct in the process?

"I have a bad feeling about this." Armin stated, smoothing his fingers over the delicate auburn bark, "What if this is a trap? It all seems so convenient, and the fact that they need a mage…"

"I think you're overthinking. I think they genuinely need help, but they're too afraid to ask." Eren replied, unsheathing his steel blade from its hoister, which glistened freshly under the light of the sun. "Don't worry, as long as we're together and have faith in ourselves, we'll be fine."

"I'm not sure if faith and friendship will be strong enough if we're fighting a spirit like they said." Armin retorted, dread sinking in his gut, "I never encountered any malicious spirits in the Fade, so it would be my first time facing one. We also don't know what type it is, or how strong it would be."

"But at least you could communicate to it if it was!" Eren said, his tone as encouraging as it could be, "Besides, there's also a chance it's not one. It could just be an animal like that man said."

"But could an animal throw a rock at a man and get a perfect headshot, and in the middle of a cave of all places?"

"Err… it could be a possibility…?"

Armin sighed, "Well, in that case, our fate is clear." 

"Don't be like that, you're smart, you've studied both animals and spirits before. We'll be alright." Eren offered.

"I hope it'll be enough."

…

  
  


The brisk glade air gradually dropped in temperature and sent a strange waft which chilled the two to the bone. It pierced their skin like thorns of ice.

His bottom lip quivering, Armin shivered and rubbed his arms as goosebumps began to rise. 

It was an uncomfortable kind of cold, one he never felt before, not even on the coldest, rainiest nights of his life. It was strange, peculiar. Even more so since they were in the middle of the woods in broad daylight.

"You feel that?" Eren murmured, flexing his fingers to relieve their chilled stiffness.

"Yes." Armin replied. His eyes tracked fearfully at every suspicious tree they passed, "We must be getting close."

There was that feeling again.

Eyes fluttering open from where he couldn't see, pupils bouncing, nothing but black orbs tracing his every move.

The tree branches above trapped all the light from reaching the forest floor. Clutching it in a tight, finger-like grip, too much like the ones from before.

Armin felt like he was walking in circles, every direction looked the same. Even the wrinkles and clefts in the tree bark began to look the same.

He blinked, finding his eyes starting to feel heavy. Why did he feel so tired all the sudden?

Before he could ponder further, he caught the sight of a small fennec not far away from him.

It stared back at him with big black eyes, a small white snout and two big fluffy ears.

"Eren… do you see that?" Armin asked, intrigued by the sudden appearance of the creature.

"Yeah… do you think that's responsible for… what this is?" Eren murmured.

Armin's pupils stayed locked onto the animal like a lifeline, "No, there's something wrong here. Nothing like that could… alter the atmosphere like this."

They could only watch as the fennec scurried away, delving further down the path.

"Should we follow it?" Eren questioned, uncertain.

Armin bit his lip, and took his time to inspect their surroundings.

The place was much like a maze, or more specifically, a labyrinth. He couldn't tell one tree apart from another. 

It reminded him of some of the realms he explored in the Fade, which made him wonder what kind of creature they were facing. At this rate, it was most certainly a spirit. Most likely one who escaped the Fade and became twisted into a demon somehow.

Based on the atmosphere, it must've been one who enjoyed inflicting tourment upon others, calculating and menacing. Not like a Rage demon or any simple demon would be -- seeking a psychological attack rather than a physical one.

"Maybe it'll lead us to the center of this mess. I don't think we have any other choice at this point." Armin claimed, his breath wisping out in white puffs, "Just… please keep following me."

Eren nodded back at him, his sword still drawn and hungry for battle.

It was so hard to think when they were so disoriented like this. There must have been some kind of spell or influence involved, but they were unsure what.

Their thoughts couldn't have been closer to the truth once they continued trailing the wandering fennec.

It felt like something was plucking through their minds, squeezing the energy out of them.

Armin's eyelids grew heavier and it became increasingly difficult to keep them open. His legs began to drag behind him and he felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs.

Glimpses of recurring eyes pierced into him from the background, but he forced himself to ignore them.

They were a distraction, a distraction, he kept telling himself.

It became hard to ignore them once they stacked on top of each other, multiplied, amalgamated. They soon became all what the background was, and a familiar fear set fire to his veins.

Armin soon heard a grotesque glugging noise which soon escalated into gurgling, croaking, gasping. 

It was a sound terribly familiar.

It ricocheted off the trunks of trees, echoing back and forth in his ears and sending a sharp tingling sensation up his spine.

He cringed between his shoulders, but didn't take his eyes off of the fleeing fox.

_'This is a test of willpower.'_ Armin realized in the back of his mind.

It was all just mind games, visions, manipulation, bid on luring him and Eren into the demon's clutches.

He wasn't even sure if the fennec was another delusion or not, but there was only one way to find out.

The only way to overcome it was to have only one intention in mind: to prevail.

The two forced themselves to keep going despite the fatigue, to keep their eyes open and dead set on the fox in front of them.

It felt like an eternity of rolling hills, passing trees and crunching soil. Constantly feeling on the verge of falling and giving into the temptation to stop and rest.

But at last, the vision seemed to break, shatter into a thousand pieces.

Just like that, the duo tumbled to their knees inside of a lone cave. 

The realm was unique, yet so similar to the tales Armin read of ancient elven cities. Drapes of ivy and leaves linked across the stone walls. A small waterfall cascaded down stone and an enormous tree stretched in the center of the cave.

Golden syrup stroked down each limb like liquid veins, dripping and bleeding into the water below.

Once the sight fully sunk in, they realized they had found the core.

"Damn, I guess you were right. We really are biting off more than we can chew." Eren sighed, carefully standing to his feet. He took a moment to catch his breath, before he reached over to shake Armin's shoulder. He furrowed his brow, "Are you alright? You're so pale…"

Armin hardly acknowledged he was there, his gaze affixed to the cave surrounding them, glossing over every edge and detail. But eventually, his eyes rolled towards Eren, "I'm fine… just a bit shook up."

"What the hell happened to us out there, anyways?" Eren said, rubbing at an ache behind his forehead, "It felt like something was there, watching us. It was, like, juggling thoughts in my head almost. To the point where I couldn't think at all."

"Same for me. I think something was draining our psyche, feeding off of our life essence." Armin spoke, contemplating. "It was also manipulating our minds at the same time. So it must be some form of Shade, or even a Sloth demon who escaped the Fade, if that's even possible."

Eren scoffed at the utter nuisance of the situation, flopping back to the ground in the process. "Great, just what we needed. A freak who can feed off unsuspecting victims and kill them without even needing to touch them. And here I thought the slice of a sword would be enough."

"There are weaker ones and stronger ones, but based on how fast it affected the world around us, it must be one who knows how to bend things to its will."

"Of course it is." Eren groaned.

They both heard a soft scitter of small claws on stone, but decided to pass it off as trickling water.

The liquid smeared in thick streams above them, plattering and slapping down into the lake below. It was so clear that the sunlight that pierced through it appeared in shards of silver.

"Did you see those… things?" Armin spoke after a moment, sitting up on his haunches.

It took Eren a second to realize what he meant. Once he did, his head sunk to the floor, "Yes, I did."

Armin hesitated to ask further. His pupils flickered along the silver water, the scenery reflecting in the blankness of his eyes. "What did you see?"

"I…" Eren staggered a bit, struggling to collect himself. He sighed and shut his eyes, "I saw my mom."

Armin's lips stayed parted, debating on responding. He already knew what he meant without him even having to say it. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Don't be." Eren spoke, his face softening. "The same thing happened to you, it wasn't fair for either of us, or anyone who was attacked by that damned horde."

A few more seconds of silence, and he clenched his teeth, deciding to go on further. Figuring it was better than bottling up inside. That's what his father told him, anyways.

"She was… calling my name." He said, his tone stiff, "Telling me to stop running and help her. I knew it was a trap, it wasn't really her voice, but…"

Eren's teeth bit into his lip, a tear rolling down his cheek. "It made me wonder… what I could've done. If I didn't run. And Mikasa, if she turned out the same way…"

The tear splattered onto a stone beside his knee, rolling down to join the massive pool. "And I didn't even know it."

"You wouldn't be alive now if you didn't run." Armin spoke bluntly, "Even if you survived somehow… you wouldn't have arrived in time to save me that night. Then I would be dead."

He clutched at a dying vine that lay beside him, lifting up the final leaf that hadn't yet lost its shape. "I wonder what I could have done differently sometimes too. But… if I did, we might not be here right now. And, ironically, I'm grateful for that."

Eren sniffled, wiping his face with the sleeve of his armor, which sounded just as uncomfortable as it looked. "Ugh, enough of this sappy crap. We gotta get out of here so losing everything was worth it." He said, "I didn't survive that night just to die here."

"That's the spirit." Armin wished his words sounded more inspiring, but they fell flat due to the unnatural fatigue that still weighed him down.

Eren stood to his feet once more, brushing the dirt off his armor and inspecting the astounding size and detail of the cave.

He was nearly speechless, not even coming close to imagining how the place could have formed.

Instead, he turned back to Armin, concern straining his brow. "I don't suppose you know how to regenerate our psyche or whatever it is, huh?"

"No." Armin said, using the wall to help himself stand.

"What about communication like that man said? You do know how to reach out and speak to spirits in the Fade, right?" Eren tried, desperate for any sliver of hope for their helpless situation.

Armin only shook his head in dismay, "It's a lot more complicated than it sounds. Now you know why I was so hesitant to go out into the forest like this. They don't just hand spells out in books, those are reserved for the Circle. They're only sold outside illegally between apostates or abandoned."

"We can't just be doomed like this, let's look around." Eren declared, "As long as that demon isn't anywhere around, we're safe."

"It's also that…" Armin paused, feeling winded and dazed as ever, "The demon drained me much more than you, it must've known I was a mage. It's trying to stop us from communicating with it, or casting any spells."

"Of course he's a cheating bastard. Can't even play his own damn game fair." Eren swore in anger. He contemplated a bit before he snatched a large tree limb from his back. It was the same one he had tore off the tree earlier.

"Take this." The brunette told him, and Armin would have laughed if he had it in him. Instead, he shut his eyes and let out a choppy exhale of air.

"Thank you." He said, taking the stick into his hands and leaning into it like a makeshift cane. "Now… we need to find that fox."

Eren cocked a brow, "What?"

"It led us away from the demon's proximity, brought us here instead. It was helping us. No ordinary animal could do that."

As if on cue, the subtle scurrying noises returned. Leaves began to flutter off the branches of the tree above, catching the duo's attention.

They stared at the ceiling, trailing the chittering noises. Before long, they ended up dashing up the natural stone stairs leading up to the base of the room.

White sunlight burst from the opening on top of the cave, illuminating the pool of water beneath it, as well as the arms of the mighty tree.

Armin and Eren stood right at the bank of the water, staring up where the tree branches split off in seperate directions.

The fennec popped its head out between them, sniffing at the air and staring down at the two with big beady eyes. It silently sat down and ruffled its tail.

"You're not a very experienced mage, are you?" 

A voice reverberated through the walls.

Armin and Eren glanced around, confused. They frantically traced every ridge and curve, before they realized in utter awe and shock -- Eren bumbled, "Was that the…?"

"Yes, it was." The strange monotonous voice called back.

The fox merely layed down on all fours, its expressionless face seemed full of contempt as it gazed down upon them.

"You're more inexperienced than I thought. Why would the chief send you?"

Neither of the two could give a response, just gawking back at the animal, practically slack jawed.

The fox's eyes seemed to narrow expectantly, "That's right. He didn't send you. You two are just unlucky visitors, hoping to fix flayed strings. Like so many others. Like I was."

The fennec flicked its tail, seemingly distracted as it admired the twisted, gnarled branches above its head. The limbs reached up into the sunlight like slender fingers.

"Wh-What are you?" Eren stammered, eyes wide in a permanent state of disbelief, _"Who_ are you?"

"I was one of the first mages the Chief sent here." The fox answered simply, "He wanted us to fix the flayed strings, or cut them loose. It didn't really matter in the end."

It hopped to a short branch inches above the surface of water, "I learned a lot when I was here. Much more than anyone else could. I was so _close_ to uncovering it fully, flaying those strings once and for all. But my knowledge wasn't enough in the end.

I remember the Guardian stealing my words from me, when I was trying to remind it what it was. He gouged out my throat with those talons of his. It hurt, but the regret that all my knowledge was lost hurt far worse.

I've tried to share it with numerous others who came here, all of whom met the same fate." Fennec lifted its head up to Armin and Eren again, "But, perhaps I've been given another chance."

"So… you've been stuck here all this time, trying to defeat this 'guardian' thing using your comrades…" Eren tested, trying to make sense of it, "Why not do it yourself? Why not go back to your village and give them your knowledge?"

"There's not been much I can do with this form, much less fight a demon and miraculously succeed." Fennec sighed, "And, if you could not already tell, the Veil is thin here. This is where the Guardian ripped free from the Fade and into the real world in order to protect this land. Or so, they like to say. I cannot travel far, for it pulls me back, as if it knows I don't belong in this world either."

Before either of the two could goad on with more questions, Fennec continued, "Nevertheless, please follow me, your questions will be answered along the way." The animal leapt down onto the stone and trotted into a path hidden between the rocks. "It's rude to give answers without evidence, anyways."

Faithful yet befuddled as ever, Eren and Armin followed. Though the cold chill still hadn't left their skin and nor had the strange visions behind their eyes.

  
  


###

  
  
  


The tunnel system seemed to stretch on for ages. Water rolled down each crevice in smooth intervals, seemingly being responsible for how intricately carven it all was.

The place appeared to be an illusion in and of itself. Somehow more so than how Eren and Armin were following a _talking fox,_ of all things.

It wasn't the first instance Armin assumed the demon coerced him into a delusion of reality.

He had read stories of such circumstances happening to warriors, rogues, and mages alike. But something told him that wasn't the case here.

The voice they were hearing felt wise and genuine. Not like the one he heard earlier, mocking guttural choking noises and even imitating Carla's cries, so Eren said.

"This is where I left my notes," The fox claimed, its monotone somewhat lifting in joyous excitement. "They were originally for lost wanderers, but I soon found not many understood what it meant."

The trio arrived in a small cavern, lit by clusters of blue lyrium which illuminated the writing carved into stone.

Symbols and drawings were scribbled passionately across, and shapes of a demented hunchback figure were prominent as ever.

"The Guardian is its name. A guardian was what it is, and what it was before. A keeper, protector, a spirit who discovered this place long ago, and wanted to preserve it. To keep it untouched, untainted, by darkspawn and greed alike." Fennec explained, curling up beneath its own writing.

"I discovered that through its intentions. What it speaks, drawls, as if it still has the same purpose as it did before. It used to tread between this world and the Fade willingly. But now, it only treads here, back and forth along the same path. It once held a barrier separating this place from the real world, that one could see but not touch. It spoke to those who greeted it, even offering some pieces of the special trees they seeked."

Fennec pranced to the next wall full of text. Dark silhouettes were splattered along the wall, faces marred and unrecognizable.

"Then, the humans came. They believed that the trees here were healing. They wanted more than the Guardian could give. For as much as the spirit prevented the darkspawn and taint, the blight still spread among the humans. They wanted hope. They wanted a cure."

Armin studied the nameless, expressionless faces engraved into flat stone.

He understood what they must have felt. Friends and loved ones inflicted with an unknown sickness, eager to save them, but not knowing it was a disease that could not be cured.

"They were desperate." Armin stated, feeling pity loom in his chest. "But there was nothing they could do. Why did they think that the trees could help them? Were they a cure, afterall?"

Fennec narrowed its head, and its eerie gaze joined Armin's on the picture it once drew in a past life. "The trees have a seed, which relaxes those near it. Including those inflicted by the blight. It does nothing to stop the taint, but it could be considered a sedative, or even magic to those who fully understand it. Perhaps it was the spell the Guardian sent upon this land, or the sap it expels, who knows?"

"So… the humans cut all the trees down for the 'seed', right?" Eren remarked, "But how did that lead to the spirit becoming a demon? Didn't he have those barriers you mentioned to protect this land?"

"Yes." Fennec answered, swiftly bounding over to the third and final section of the cave.

It was the one with a massive hunchback demon painting. The limbs appeared to be made up of twisted tree branches, much like the one in the core they'd seen.

Its spine was crooked and gnarled like a tree root, and a veil of dead leaves hung loose over its head. It overshadowed its frost blue eyes, which contrasted the rest of its dark, brooding form.

Armin quickly noticed that its outlines were splattered a deep crimson red. It was smeared across the wall, a few fingerprints were noticeable, as if it were painted on with dried blood.

"Is… is this drawn with blood?" He spoke, delicately running a finger across the dark red crust, almost scenting the long forgotten musk. 

He could sense the fox shifting beside him. "I… did a lot of things I'm not proud of in the waking world. There was only one way to find the truth, and I was so stubborn, I was willing to do anything to find it. So... I taught myself blood magic."

"Was it yours?" Eren questioned, sickeningly curious, "Or… someone else's?"

"Both." Fennec said, with cold detachment. "My friend was dying from an injury by the Guardian. I felt no harm to put him at peace, knowing it was better than watching him die slowly. I used his blood and some of my own to view a fallen mage's memories. And, thank the Maker, it was the right one."

Fennec ruffled its tail to get comfortable, and sat back to the floor before continuing.

"Like I said prior, the spirit liked to speak to its visitors, and was very curious of life and the living world. It listened to the humans when they asked for more resources, and gave them what it felt they needed. When it felt enough was given, it declined their pleas. The Guardian didn't understand anger, or why they were angry. It knew the trees were not a cure for sickness, nothing but the remnants of a place that once existed a long time ago. The spirit declined again, again, each time the tribe would ask or bargain. Until, one day, it ventured back into its realm in the Fade…"

Armin caught on to Fennec's words instantly, shaking his head. "They… did that for their comrades...?"

Fennec narrowed its eyes, nodding. "It was attacked by that same greed and taint it tried to prevent. Nothing but terrible irony, as the waking world goes. A mage brought the Guardian back here by force, not knowing the side effects. Even when the spirit travelled between worlds before, it twisted, corrupted, became a demented version of what it was meant to be.

As you witnessed when you first approached here, it uses itself and barriers from the Veil to draw victims in. Using their minds and manipulation to lure them into its clutch. It wants them to come, so it can feed off of their energy, consuming them from the inside. To keep itself and this realm alive. Only, it's insatiable, and it endlessly hungers for more."

Armin and Eren both exhaled in unison, taking in all the information at once.

"Well, that explains our situation, at least." Eren huffed, wiping a strand of hair from his brow.

"So… the spirit was only trying to defend this place, before those people forced it out of the Fade, involuntarily turning it into a demon in the process." Armin uttered, "And all because of the fear of losing family and friends to the blight. That's… horrible. Almost unbelievable."

"Even with all this knowledge, we're still at impossible odds with this thing." Eren said, his frustration swelling, "How can we defeat it and somehow stop your people from destroying the rest of the forest?"

"Just tell them what I told you," The fox stated, "As for the spirit, there's no easy way to kill it. It lurks in the darkness, hungering for more victims, constantly searching for anything near."

A faint wisping noise caused Fennec's ears to perk up, but it still continued. "The only way to defeat it is to trick it, bend its mind, use the same tactics against it."

"I would if I could." Armin replied bluntly, eyeing the tree limb he held firmly in his hands. "It's like you said, I'm inexperienced. We both are. If a group of expertly trained mages couldn't face it, then what makes you think we can?"

"Because you have potential." Fennec stated, "Just like I did. I can sense it through the way you speak, the way you don't give up and search for more. There's something special in you two, not like the others. All I ask is you don't waste it like I did."

A fire abruptly lit behind the pupils of Fennec's eyes. Its head flicked to the side in an instant.

Eren and Armin heard a subtle noise resembling sizzling, popping. Like hot grease bubbling on a stove.

They glanced over to see a black mist materializing at the entrance of the room. The dust began to settle, rising and grouping together until a dark shape was formed.

Its enormous arms reached out, consisting of twisted tree branches and claw-like talons.

Striking ice blue eyes pierced back at them, its face twisted into an angry snarl.

"It's here..." Fennec wavered, for once an utter terror distorting its voice.

The shade demon reeled back, its rage suddenly fading as it lifted a claw. It was practically drooling at the mouth, and what the duo could see of its lips was a fanged smile that chilled them to the bone.

The Guardian dragged its talon across the wall, slicing four thick streaks into the artwork and writing with a horrible grating noise.

Fennec gave the two a glance which screamed _"run,"_ before it dashed into a crevice neither of them had seen before. They had no choice but to give chase yet again.

The endless cave ahead winded and spun like an illusion as they ran. The Guardian let out a shriek of rage behind them, and as if on cue, the ceiling above began to buckle and break.

Chunks of stone crumbled, smashing in all directions, halting Armin and Eren in their tracks.

Fennec was long gone, nowhere in sight. Dreadfully familiar ice cold prickled at their skin, and they turned just in time to see the shade summoning ice in its talons. The saliva frothing from its mouth may as well have been frozen solid at that point.

_'It's trying to freeze us,'_ Armin realized, eyes widening, _'It's not fast enough to catch up to us, almost like its own powers slow it down. Could there possibly be a way to…?'_

Eren snatched his wrist mid-thought, pulling him into a path shielded off by a barrier of frost -- which he then bashed and shattered with the shaft of his sword.

They sunk knee-deep into freezing water. It slopped into their trousers, forcing them to a halt. Eren staggered into a defending stance, fighting off his fear before raising his blade again. "I'll fend it off." He seethed to his friend, "Find a way to summon something we can use against him!"

Armin's eyes bulged at his words, instantly faltering and stumbling backwards onto a bank nearby.

His mind began to race, debating on any magic he could use. Ice and electricity could be used to stun the demon temporarily. Fire was an option, but it would do no good with the ice powers and the water the shade had to its advantage.

Of what little he knew how to summon, he knew he would have to strategize his attacks entirely. He needed to maintain distance and accuracy, while also protecting Eren at the same time.

Armin observed the tree limb staff he had forgotten about, still grasped firmly in his hands. He watched as strange blue creases seeped into the threads of wood, sprouting from where his fingers made contact.

It was magic. Magic from him.

Much like the golden sap from the trees, the magic flowed from the center of the branch: the heart. It pulsed and flickered a blue-white color.

The sharp _'clang!'_ of Eren deflecting one of the Guardian's attacks came next, and Armin knew what he had to do.

"Eren, get out of the water!"

The brunette did just that, fumbling as fast as he could to the nearest dry ground.

The demon wasn't fast enough to reach him in time.

Armin's staff sparked and vibrated, surging with unbridled energy. A chain of electricity built before it launched into the water, catching the shade right before it could grab Eren's arm.

It locked up in a tight spasm, convolting and shrieking with a tormented cry -- almost enough for Armin to regret his actions.

Instead, he reeled back and plunged his staff toward the beast, casting a direct strike of magic right between its eyes.

Frost and ice crackled over the things skin, locking it in place. It was struggling, however.

_'Dammit! It's immune!'_ Armin thought, cursing himself, _'Of course it's immune! How could I be so--!?'_

The ice shards were cracking quickly as it writhed and they only had so much time to spare.

Armin forced himself to act, shouting, "Now, Eren! Hit it now!"

Just like that, Eren pounced. He let out a mighty war cry, held his steel blade over his head, throwing all of his weight into the blow and---

He tumbled into the water with a heavy splash, his weapon smacking uselessly beside him.

A shockwave tore through the air. It sent the two on their knees, clutching their heads in agony.

Uncanny voices and whispers erupted in their ears, ringing like bells.

Armin could feel psyche being drained with a ruthless strength. A mental battle that was impossible to win.

"Stop, stop it!" He ended up choking, forcing his eyes open. "We're so close…"

The thing was already twisting free from its prison, curling its spine, wracking back and forth.

But it was so slow, so patient. As if channeling all of its energy onto them alone. 

It didn't stop the ringing in the duo's heads, building up into a deafening roar which consumed their thoughts.

Carla kept spawning in Eren's eyes, causing him to falter when he finally managed to stagger to his feet. "Damn you." Was all he could say, bitter tears in his eyes.

In contrast, Armin caught the uncanny eyes dancing everywhere, taunting him, tormenting him.

Armin could only watch in horror as the Guardian began to slowly draw ice magic into its claws. It kept building and building until it pointed it at Eren and let it release. The brunette had no time to react as the magic spiraled into him like a bullet.

"No!" Armin shrieked, just as his friend was struck, his body blasted in a massive cage of ice.

_'No, no. He's still alive.'_ Armin realized, watching Eren's pupils flicker and his arms pulse under the magic. _'I can still fix this.'_

Even as the distorted, disembodied pupils continued to flutter in the background, Armin willed himself to stand. His arms trembled on his wooden staff, sweat dripping down his brow.

The Shade drew towards Eren at a sickeningly slow pace. Its talon was held forward, ready to strike at any moment and shatter the boy to pieces.

Armin's energy had only recovered so much, he didn't have enough strength to freeze it again, and much less break Eren free without harming him in the process.

The demon stared at him, cocking its head, almost in a mocking way. Somehow the visions became worse. Shifting him in and out of reality, the tender face of his dying grandpa, his mother's frantic eyes, his father calling out to him one last time---

Armin channeled all of his anger, all of his guilt that had built up for so long. It all burst from the end of his staff in a mighty display. Electricity spilled in angry, jagged bolts, igniting the cave in a brilliant display of violet and electric blue.

The Guardian shrieked and shook as it was set internally ablaze once more, flopping hard into the water.

In the brief moment of safety, Armin did the only thing he could think to do, raising a hand to inflict a spark of fire onto Eren's sword.

Just like his grandpa told him, wave his hand in the motion, think of the element and make it a part of himself.

Just like that, the weapon was set aflame, but it wasn't yet hot enough to completely melt the ice.

The Shade was already shambling back on its feet, angrier than ever. It didn't quite notice the flaming sword that was out of its line of sight. Instead, it simply drew a claw forward in Armin's direction.

The boy was yanked towards it by an unseen force, so fast that it left him disoriented and dazed. He barely had enough time to react to the talon sweeping inches away from his face.

He shielded his skull with his right arm on impulse, right before a searing pain tore through it like a pair of daggers. White flashed his vision and he felt blood dripping, warm on his skin.

He glanced down to see three angry red streaks sliced straight through his forearm. At that moment, he strangely remembered his father having a similar injury the last time he saw him. Just imagining it made him feel dizzy.

The Shade lunged forward to strike again, but this time the impact never came.

Armin heard a squeal and looked up, gasping at the sight of Fennec tumbling to the ground beside him. It lay there limp, matching claw marks struck across its furry chest.

In the same instant, Eren tore his blade into the nape of the demon. He hissed in rage, arms trembling, nearly severing its head before he was shoved back by a blast of magic.

The Guardian bellowed, but it was a weak and desperate sound. Its head clung on by only three or four tendons, wobbling crookedly as it walked before it just stood there.

Armin stared at his wounded arm and Fennec, feeling numb. Even as a sudden onslaught of bells and eyes sprouted in his head, it felt far weaker than last time.

He couldn't help but notice the thing's flesh knitting back together from its nape. _'It's… regenerating?'_ He realized, eyes widening.

It was feeding off their energy. That was what kept it alive for so long. And its hunger was insatiable, Fennec had said, never ending.

Eren clenched his teeth from the other side of the demon, angrily lifting his sword with a grip that could snap metal.

_'It must be blind and deaf with all that blood. This is our chance.'_ He thought, his desperation sparking him to act.

Eren lifted his sword with the remaining strength he had, but froze when the face of the shade churned into the frantic eyes of his father.

"Eren, don't do this! You still have a job to do!" He shouted, lifting a glass of dark fluid in his hand. "Don't forget the promise you made to me, or why you've donned that armor and blade I gave you!"

Armin approached the demon's front, hazy eyes observing the face of his beloved grandfather.

"I'm so proud of you." The man said, voice so deep and tender. His arms were outstretched, offering a welcoming embrace. "Come with me, boy. We can leave this horrid place and go back home. Safe and sound."

Both of the boys stepped forward, a former softness on their faces. They reluctantly reached forward, Armin let his fingers intertwine with his grandfather while Eren's hand raised tentatively towards the glass in Grisha's hand.

They both said the same thing in unison, guilt swelling in their chests.

  
  
  
  


"You're not real."

  
  
  
  


In an instant, Armin plunged his neglected dagger into the demon's chest, while Eren sliced his blade straight through the remains of its spine.

They could only watch as their once living guardians tumbled to the ground, faces blank and lifeless.

Their blood spread a deep crimson into the water, before the bodies flickered back into reality like a dying flame.

The shade crumbled into a heap in the water, body bursting into a thousand particles before dissipating into dust. 

"It's over…" Eren gasped, wiping sweat from his forehead, "Thank the Maker…"

He heard a faint muttering noise and turned to find Armin kneeling over Fennec's lax form.

The fox lifted its head, struggling to get out its last words. "I knew you had potential, see? None of the others could do it. They couldn't face their pasts, or themselves. And neither could I." 

It rasped weakly, forcing itself to continue, "Some didn't think it was worth fighting for... They retreated, leaving their friends to die. But you didn't."

Fennec cackled dryly at the sheer irony of their situation, "It's no matter now. Follow the blue streaks on the walls… They will bring you to the exit and… the book of… all my knowledge."

"Of everything you knew?" Armin breathed, unbelieving. It was too good to be true.

"It's not much, but… Th-Thank you, for… putting an end to this nightmare. Now that it's gone, I… can finally be… free."

Fennec's pupils drifted before they stilled and glazed over.

Eren bit his lip at the words, his tired eyes resting on a pile of rocks as he fought to catch his breath.

He saw Armin sit up on his knees, gently brushing two fingers to close the fox's empty eyes.

After a moment, Eren set a hand on Armin's shoulder. "Let's get out of here." He said.

His friend nodded, his voice soft. "Let's bury him first, I… don't want to leave him like this."

  
  


…

  
  


Fennec had kept its word.

Once Armin had shoveled the grave shut with rocks, he had discovered a winding path. Blue streaks of lyrium lead the way down, and at the end, there lay a book and the exit, which bursted with blinding light.

Armin took the journal into his hands, wiping the dust off to reveal the aged black leather. "The Maker must be watching over us." He said, tucking it into his coat.

"He must be." Eren agreed, "It's a miracle we even made it out alive."

Armin nodded wearily, "At least I have a way to practice and learn now. At this point, we're gonna need it desperately."

"You said it. I guess I… was a bit over my head, huh?" Eren exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, "I just wanted to start somewhere, you know? With Mikasa still missing and what happened to my mom… I didn't want to pretend everything was alright for the rest of my life. I can't just… live in ignorant bliss and act like the darkspawn won't come back someday. I know they will, my father said…"

He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face, "I'll talk about it later. I'm still tired after dealing with all those… visions."

"Me too." Armin replied, his head sinking low.

"And your arm…" Eren muttered, his voice tinged with regret. The blood caked on Armin's right arm twisted guilt in his gut.

"It's nothing." Armin said, "Nothing a potion can't fix…"

"I hope you're right."

  
  


…

  
  


They continued walking down the rest of the path, but a sudden presence caught them off guard.

It was the two hunters from earlier, who appeared just as shocked as they did.

"You did it, didn't you?" The younger man spoke, "It felt like… the veil was lifted. The air isn't as cold anymore, I can actually think."

"So, what was it then?" The old man chimed in, still unamused but somewhat curious. "Was it the rat like I said?"

"It was a shade demon, who was once a spirit who guarded this part of the forest." Armin answered, "It was forced out of the Fade by a mage, one of your people. It used psychological attacks and manipulation, which was what killed so many. It only wanted to protect the trees because they are unique, not because they're a cure for the blight or sickness. They only have a seed that acts as a sedative."

"How do you know?" The young man replied, "How did you know about the curse? Was someone there to tell you?"

Armin and Eren exchanged glances, before the latter spoke up. "Yes, but as weird as it might sound, uh… they weren't really alive."

"The fennec that you saw and blamed for the attack, was actually a spirit." Armin claimed, "It somehow spoke through it like a vessel, maybe due to the split veil or some other magic…"

"Ghosts? A spirit?" The old man's mustache perked up as he cackled, "That's a good one, kid. Souls don't just hang around in the real world like that, that's unheard of. If they would, I would have seen e'm by now. Hell, I'm old enough to be dead at this point."

"See for yourself." Armin retorted, plucking the journal from his coat pocket. "This is what the soul gave us as a reward for defeating the demon. It said it was theirs."

The old man cocked his brow, hesitantly taking it into his hands. He fell silent as he skimmed the first few pages. His cocky and confused look gradually grew perplexed, curious, then pure shock and horror.

"This…" He murmured, eyes glued on a drawing of a dragon. "This is… Alpreshia's writing. I could recognize it anywhere..."

The young hunter's eyes widened beside him, "Alpreshia? You mean, your…?"

"My wife… she left for the caves twenty years ago." The old man said. He tilted his hat up over his eyes, which were full of emotion. "She was trying to find a cure for her father, who was dying from an infection. So many others had disappeared there. I tried to stop her, tell her it wasn't worth the risk, but she didn't listen.

She was so hard headed. She wouldn't listen to anyone. She wouldn't take no for an answer." He spoke, flipping through all of the pages. Each one consisting of a different spell, a different tonic.

"Well, she was the one who helped us defeat the demon. It was almost as if she cast a spell on herself to stay here. To learn more about it to help others who came." Armin spoke.

The old man shut the book, ogling the engraving on the front. "Where is she now?" He asked.

"She's at peace, we're sure of it." Armin reassured.

"Without her, neither of us would be alive right now. You should be proud of her." Eren added.

Silence sunk into the air a moment more. The only sounds from distant crows and the wind whirling quietly around them.

"Did you want to keep it as a memory of her?" Armin offered, noticing the way the old man inspected the surface of the book. It was gentle, fond, one that didn't seem to match who he was minutes prior.

The man's eyes narrowed, smoothing his fingers over the cover once more. "No. I can't disrespect Alpreshia's wishes like that. She gave it to you for a reason, and defeating that creature must have been no simple task. You must deserve it."

He held the journal out towards Armin, patient for him to take it. "She will live on in my memory, that's all that matters."

"Thank you." Was all Armin could say, clutching onto the item like a lifeline.

"Feel free to tell the Chief any story you'd like." Eren said, "We'll be on our way. I think we had enough adventure for one day."

"Fair enough, children. May you find whatever it is you seek." The old man replied.

"We may end up seeing you again if another inevitable problem arises." The younger man chimed in, "For now, safe travels."

"Farewell."

  
  


###

  
  


The sun had set faster than they anticipated.

An eerie, quiet air shrouded the wilderness, just as a thick fog would swallow the Fallow Mire.

Invisible crickets chirped while dark clouds of trees swayed ominously in the breeze. They were like looming silhouettes, all of their guilt and worries towering over them, never ceasing.

Eren chipped a stone and a stick together, trying his best to earn a spark, all while Armin used a lantern to read Fennec's journal.

_'Chip,' 'Chip,' 'Chip,'_

Eren grated them harder together, face stern with eager determination.

Of course, Armin could have started a fire with a mere snap of his fingers, but Eren had insisted that they started one naturally. Like "true adventurers," he had said.

But it didn't take long for him to change his mind.

"Damn it!" Eren swore, tossing his items to the side and pulling his knees to his chest. "You make it look so easy, Armin. Magic makes everything else look useless." He groaned.

Armin smiled a bit, waving a hand to waft fire onto the sticks and logs they collected.

Instantly, a flame began to ignite, popping and sizzling. After two long years of practicing, he felt he had finally mastered it.

"Not for everything, though. Some things can't be fixed with magic, believe it or not." Armin said.

"Like what?" Eren tried, curious.

"Lots of things. Like… healing major injuries. You can't bring people back to life either. Magic can do so much, yet so little. It's almost like a curse sometimes."

"But you can heal some major injuries with enough experience, right? Hell, the spells that demon was casting were something else. Can't you learn to do something like that?"

"No, that demon was powerful because it had gained so much power from the unfortunate souls it consumed. Spirits have so many more abilities than mages do. Probably since in the Fade, they can enter other's minds just as simply as we breathe here. They can do things we can't even comprehend."

Armin gazed at the wounds on his right arm, which were still wrapped in bloodied bandages that winded around his forearm. The three streaks were still visible underneath them, in dark crimson smears.

"To think that was our first one…" Eren spoke, deep in thought. "Who knows what else we'll find out here."

Armin nodded silently, before he gradually cast his attention back to reading the journal.

The campfire beside them crackled amongst the silence, the scent of freshly roasted firewood contrasting the cool forest air.

Eren watched it flicker and dance to and fro, the heat seeping into his face.

Armin's eyes carefully trailed each word from the book in his hands. Each sentence was perfectly instructed, each spell branching out into much more powerful and complex ones.

Earth, ice, fire, electricity, even some of healing and blood that he had never seen before.

The text said that the only way to grow each element was to start with the weakest part, and practice, welding it to be stronger.

"...What did you see in those visions?" Eren suddenly spoke up, appearing hesitant. "From the demon, I mean. I wanted to ask because, uh… I doubt we were seeing the same things."

Armin inspected the ash sparking from the fire, contemplating. "I saw my grandfather." He said, guilt prickling at his throat. "He was how he used to be, before he got sick. There were… eyes, too, and ringing bells. Which was strange."

"It must've been feeding off of us with false perception." Eren claimed with disgust, "I saw my father, and heard my mother and the darkspawn again. Everywhere I turned, they were there. It was hard to ignore them."

He hissed under his breath, regret burning in his chest as well. Just like the embers from the flame. "I'm so glad we put that thing out of its misery."

"Me too. No one deserves a fate like that. Wandering the world, endlessly craving unsuspecting victims…"

Armin glanced down at the journal, spotting the sketch of the dragon the old man had spotted earlier. "I… I don't even know what happened to my grandpa. After he got sick, he just disappeared. We never saw him again. I don't know if he died, or became possessed or anything." He continued, "I don't think I could handle seeing him like that, if he was."

"I wouldn't either. Seeing someone you know in that state is… " Eren responded, trailing off. He let the empty air give the answer for him.

There were plenty of words he could have said, but none lived up to how revolting it truly was.

"I don't know what happened to my father either." He added, "I can't… remember much of that night, honestly. All I remember is…"

It was as if a dagger had sliced out a chunk of his memory. Eren faltered, pondering.

"He told me to do something. That I had a 'purpose' or something." He held his head, wracking his brain for more details. "He had a cup in his hand, he looked frantic… But when I awoke, he was gone and my home was being raided by darkspawn. It feels like a hazy bad dream, but it was real."

"That sounds convenient." Armin remarked.

"It does, now that I think about it. Those are the memories that the demon attacked me with. It's almost too convenient." Eren murmured, thinking.

"Did you ever think your father was hiding something?" Armin tested.

"Well... it was kinda weird that we left for that village so randomly. He said that it was for his job or something, but I didn't buy it." Eren spoke, "My mother didn't like it either. But if he set us up to die like that, it just doesn't make any sense."

"He could still be alive out there, then. There's no way he would do it without reason. How could he expect the darkspawn to attack that night, anyways?"

"Well…" Eren hesitated, his expression stilling. "This is, uh, gonna sound strange, but… Remember when I said that I had a war cry I used to detect darkspawn?"

Armin nodded, wondering how that could tie in to his father's disappearance. 

"Well, I kinda wasn't kidding. Ever since that night, I've had these... senses. It's hard to explain. It's almost like, I can sense the darkspawn, somehow. That's how I made it from Redcliffe to you. I remembered the path, and navigated around the taint, if that sounds weird enough."

Eren shook his head, as if bewildered by his own words. "And that bear… If I didn't see the fire and feel its corruption, who knows what would've happened."

"So… it's like some kind of superpower." Armin said, his mind carefully piecing the puzzle together.

"Yeah, pretty much. It doesn't make any sense, but there it is."

"Interesting... and you think your father has something to do with it?"

"He has to, I don't see why else it would happen right on that specific night. Or why he disappeared right after either. Maybe it's hereditary, how would I know?"

"We'll have to find him then. I'm sure that this was his plan all along. If he can sense those things like you can, then he must've known you would survive the night."

"But how? Trying to find Mikasa is hard enough as it is, and I don't even know what my dad's job is or anything. I can't imagine where he would be."

"If it's meant to happen, it will." Armin reassured, "It's like you said,"

They locked eyes, and Armin's glinted with unbridled intent. Not unlike when he first told Eren of the untouched wonders in his book.

  
  
  


"What's the point of a mystery if it can't be solved?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much of what happened here was inspired by various missions and situations Dragon Age has to offer, and I'm very proud of how it turned out.
> 
> This was my first time using my imagination for a conflict rather than running with one that already existed. Which was why I was so interested in writing a Dragon Age crossover in the first place.
> 
> Armin and Eren's friendship was very fascinating for me to write. If you know anything about the current events in the anime, you can tell from a mile away how different it is here. (And stay tuned for a certain scene to solidify that next episode by the way.^^)
> 
> I started to think, how different would 19 year old Eren be if he was a relatively normal kid. Just like he was pre timeskip, if he kept his hope for humanity and his thirst for vengeance only stayed within the titans? (aka: the darkspawn.)
> 
> I pictured him being a somewhat witty, passionate, adventurous, strongwilled, stubborn and impulsive just like he was younger, yet also a bit more mature.
> 
> It is strange imagining him in a similar way to his younger self, but I think it fits well. Especially for how "inexperienced" he and Armin are, there's so much more outside than what they've seen in the books.
> 
> I looked up what a Shade demon's abilities were on a wiki, and what came up really surprised me.
> 
> They really can bend people's minds in order to weaken them enough to kill them -- which was something I don't think any of the games explored.
> 
> The possessed fennec was inspired by the "mouse" in the Fade in Dragon Age: Origins. I started to wonder if animal possession could be possible in the real world, if the veil was thin enough. Even more so, since "spirits" and "souls" are apparently completely different things.
> 
> And thus, Fennec was created. I'm not sure if such a thing could be possible in the series, but I decided to keep it in since it was such a bizzare, strange concept to have lol.
> 
> I hope you all are enjoying the direction this story is taking. I really wanted to experiment with this fantasy concept, and it will most definitely build into a greater conflict later on.
> 
> There's so much that can happen, so I'm gonna let my mind go wild and delve into the sheer unpredictably once everything comes together.
> 
> Feel free to leave kudos and comments as you wish. Stay tuned for all of the madness and world building that comes next.


End file.
